Beneath the earth’s gentle crust, where sunlight softly fades,
A million tiny footsteps tread in hidden, shadowed glades.
In silence, they whisper tales of unity and toil,
Ants, the unsung architects, they weave within the soil.

Through tunnels dark and winding, their paths are deftly carved,
A labyrinth of purpose, where none is ever starved.
With strength and silent cadence, they carry grains of sand,
Building empires underground, a testament so grand.

The queen, in her chamber, her realm she oversees,
Her workers move with purpose, fulfilling all decrees.
No throne of gold adorns her, no crown upon her head,
Yet loyalty surrounds her, in chambers deeply spread.

Oh, humble ant, your labor is poetry in motion,
A symphony of diligence, a silent, ceaseless ocean.
Beneath our feet, your world thrives, a hidden, bustling dance,
Teaching us the power found in unity and chance.