In the quiet spaces of her mind,
whispers stir, hidden beneath the surface,
Philomela’s muted cries transformed
a subtle but insistent call.
Philomela's essence, submerged,
finds expression in the unseen,
a realm where thoughts blend with shadows,
and truth reveals itself in dark scenes.
The nightingale's song emerges,
not merely a melody of freedom,
but a current carrying her essence
beyond what’s often barely audible.