In the stillness of the night, a whisper grows,
Echoing through the chambers of the soul,
Unseen yet felt, where the true essence flows,
A silent roar that makes the broken whole.

Power lies not in the thunderous call,
But in the gentle sway of the unseen,
Where quiet strength embraces all,
And dreams are woven in the spaces between.

The dance of power is a tender art,
A delicate balance of give and take,
Where wisdom guides the steadfast heart,
And courage finds the path to make.

In every shadow, in each rising sun,
The unseen might forever stays,
A constant force that never is done,
The eternal dance that lights our days.