In the quiet of the night, a whisper speaks,
A gentle nudge, where silence seeks.
Through shadows cast by doubt’s embrace,
It guides the soul with tender grace.

Beneath the surface, where thoughts collide,
Lies a beacon, our inner guide.
It weaves through choices, light and dark,
Igniting truth with its quiet spark.

Though tempests rage and fears abound,
Its steady voice remains profound.
A compass true, in chaos’ storm,
It shapes our path, our hearts transform.

In every heartbeat, it softly dwells,
The conscience rings like distant bells.
A mirror reflecting what we must face,
The essence of self, our saving grace.