In the quiet of the morning light,
Where shadows start to fade,
A gentle whisper takes its flight,
Bringing hope that won’t degrade.

The sun ascends with golden grace,
Painting skies with hues so bright,
In every heart, a sacred space,
Where dreams ignite and fears take flight.

Amid the storm, when darkness looms,
And all seems lost, a guiding star,
Hope’s tender light dispels the gloom,
Reminding us just who we are.

So hold on tight to hope’s warm hand,
Through trials, grief, and endless night,
For in its glow, we’ll firmly stand,
And find our way to morning’s light.