Hush now, pretty baby girl, Welcome to the waiting world. Born beneath a quiet light, Eyes still soft with borrowed sight. Unprotected, drifting slow, Unaware of where winds blow. Disconnected from the thread Of warnings never gently said. Born to be a child beguiled, Running barefoot, dreaming wild. Lullabies in daylight air, Trusting hands that stroke her hair. Hush now, little wandering pearl, This is how they shape the world. In her house the songs were sung— Sharp of voice and heavy tongue. Doors would sigh and glasses ring, Anger dressed as fathering. Mother’s silence, thin and worn, Like a cradle split and torn. But a child learns what she sees: Storms are just a kind of breeze. Love is loud and love can sting, Love can break a gentle thing. Rock now, cradle, slow and low, Time will teach what she won’t know. Soon she meets a careful boy Speaking soft and full of joy. Hands like velvet, words like thread, Golden promises he said. Making quiet feel like home. Not all devils show their horns, Some just sing until you’re worn. “Close your eyes,” he softly said, “Make a wish before you rest.” Rows of candles, warm and bright, Dancing kindly in the night. “Blow them out,” he smiled slow, “Watch how pretty shadows grow.” One breath—and the small flames fell… Only then she knew them well. Not a cake, nor tender light— But the candles of her life. And in the dark his whisper curled: “Hush now… welcome to my world.”