Beneath the attic's gentle, wooden loom,
I wove my wonders, treasures small but bright,
A haven tucked within my childhood room.
I crouched beneath the beams to feel their might,
Their arching curves a shield from all my fears,
And watched the shadows shift with waning light.
In that small world, where silence calmed my tears,
I found peace beneath the rafters' bloom,
A hidden space where I could leave behind the years.
The attic door aglow, a sacred room,
Where shadows fade, and memories take flight,
I find my peace beneath the quiet gloom.
#TerzaRima
