In the quiet of the morning’s first light,
A man stands still, his thoughts take flight.
His journey long, his spirit bright,
Through valleys deep and mountains’ height.

Each wrinkle tells a tale untold,
Of battles fought, of hearts consoled.
With eyes that gleam, so wise, so old,
His soul is warm, though nights are cold.

He walks alone, yet never lost,
Through seasons’ change, through sun and frost.
A beacon strong, no matter the cost,
His heart’s compass, his guiding post.

And as the twilight starts to fall,
He stands with pride, though shadows call.
A man who’s given life his all,
In silence, he remains so tall.