The night is soft, but I can’t sleep, Your name’s a wound I still keep. I wrote a thousand things to say, But tore them all and walked away. Every silence feels like glass, Fragile echoes of the past. These unspoken words, they call your name, Drifting through the wind, still the same. If I had one more chance to be heard, I’d break the sky with unspoken words. The paper waits, the ink has dried, Truths I hid, the nights I lied. Your shadow lingers on my floor, Like letters left outside your door. Every breath becomes a prayer, For what I wish was still out there. These unspoken words, they call your name, Drifting through the wind, still the same. If I had one more chance to be heard, I’d break the sky with unspoken words. Maybe love was meant to fade, Like a song we never played. But in my chest, your voice remains, Echoing between the chains. These unspoken words, they call your name, Drifting through the wind, still the same. If I had one more chance to be heard, I’d break the sky with unspoken words. These unspoken words, they haunt the air, Soft as dreams we used to share. If time could turn and hearts be stirred, I’d still be yours — with unspoken words.
