In the quiet of the morning’s break,
A man rises with the dawn,
His heart a fortress, never to quake,
His spirit, a resilient fawn.
Beneath the weight of life’s great trials,
He walks with silent grace,
Through endless miles and endless miles,
He never quickens pace.
His hands are calloused, rough with toil,
Yet tender they can be,
With every dream he plants in soil,
A future we can see.
The shadows cast may hide his light,
But it burns ever bright and true,
A man who stands tall in the night,
With strength known by the few.