In the quiet whispers of the night,
Dreams weave through the tapestry of stars.
A heart, though weary, holds its light,
Guided by the moon’s gentle scars.

Paths carved by rain and shadow’s dance,
Echoes of footsteps lost in the mist.
Yet every dawn offers another chance,
To rise, to fight, to clench a fist.

Beneath the weight of endless skies,
The soul finds strength in silent cries.
For in the depths of darkest fears,
Lie seeds of hope, untouched by tears.

Mountains high and rivers wide,
Cannot deter the steadfast stride.
Persistence, like the ocean’s tide,
Wears down the stone where dreams abide.