In the velvet cloak of night, where shadows softly play,
A tender beam of light emerges, gently showing the way.
Through the darkest hours, where despair often dwells,
It whispers tales of hope, casting away the spells.
Beneath the silver moon, where dreams silently gleam,
Light dances through the air, like a delicate, golden stream.
Embracing weary souls, with a warmth so pure,
It promises a dawn, radiant and sure.
In the heart of the storm, where the winds fiercely blow,
A steadfast light remains, through the ebb and flow.
Guiding tired travelers, on paths unknown,
It stands as a sentinel, never alone.
As the first light of morning kisses the earth,
It heralds a new day, a moment of rebirth.
Light, a gentle reminder, in its silent song,
That even in the darkest times, we belong.