In the quiet morning light he stands,
A silhouette against the rising sun,
With eyes that hold the weight of lands,
And a heart where battles lost and won.

His voice a calm and steady stream,
Guiding through the storms of doubt,
Holding fast to every dream,
With courage that never shouts.

A beacon in the darkest night,
His word a bond, unbroken, pure,
In his presence, wrong turns right,
For he’s a soul steadfast and sure.

Through trials that bend and break the weak,
He stands unyielding, firm, and true,
A man of strength, a voice for the meek,
Integrity his eternal view.