In the quiet hours before dawn’s light,
Where dreams weave with waking sighs,
Hands reach for the tools of labor,
Hearts beat with the rhythm of tries.

Beneath the sun’s relentless gaze,
Every step, a testament of will,
Shadows grow long with the day’s toil,
Yet spirits rise, unbroken still.

Sweat falls like rain upon the soil,
Seeds of perseverance take root deep,
Each moment carved with grit and grace,
As goals awaken from their sleep.

When stars adorn the velvet sky,
And echoes of the day softly cease,
The soul finds rest in quiet pride,
Harvesting the fruits of inner peace.