In the quiet hours before the light,
Where shadows dance with fading night,
A soul begins its gentle flight,
Seeking grace in the morning’s sight.

Beneath the weight of past despair,
A heart once lost finds solace there,
In whispers soft, a hopeful prayer,
Embracing dawn’s forgiving air.

The scars of yesteryears unfold,
In tender hues of pink and gold,
A tapestry of tales retold,
Of courage found and hearts consoled.

As morning breaks, so does the chain,
A spirit soaring, free from pain,
In redemption’s light, no loss in vain,
A new beginning, pure and plain.