In the quiet of the morning, I see him stand,
A silhouette against the rising sun.
His hands, worn with years of toil,
Hold stories of battles silently won.
His eyes, a reflection of storms weathered,
Speak volumes in their gentle gaze.
A fortress of wisdom and quiet strength,
Guiding me through life’s complex maze.
The whispers of his laughter echo,
In the chambers of my heart so deep.
His love, a constant, unwavering force,
A promise in the nights I sleep.
Though words may sometimes falter,
His actions paint a vivid tale.
A father’s love, profound and eternal,
In his legacy, I find my sail.