I must be growing

In the gradient of twilight, I must be growing,

Holding shadows like a cloak, the whispers slowing,

Amphibians of my psyche in stagnant waters lurk,

As plants of regret dig roots, memories murk.

In the depths of sorrow, whispers softly tread,

Echoes of lost hopes, where despair is spread.

Mushrooms sprout in corners, secrets unseen,

Their mycelium networks weave tales in between,

Each cap a reminder, in this dimming night,

That growth embraces darkness, veiled from light.