In the quiet corners of a bruised night,
The echoes of an unyielding storm rage,
Where shadows dance in the glaring light,
And hearts bleed ink on a tattered page.

The cries of the voiceless, a haunting refrain,
In a world where empathy seems forlorn,
Each blow a stanza in this mournful strain,
Yet hope, like dawn, silently reborn.

Through the cracks of a broken veneer,
Strength rises from the ashes of despair,
A whispered promise of a world sincere,
Where love, not violence, fills the air.

Ode to the warriors of peace, unsung,
Who mend the wounds with tender grace,
In their hands, the song of life is strung,
A melody that time can never erase.