Beneath the heavens, where quiet whispers lie,
I tread the path where shadows softly sigh.
The weight of weariness upon my soul,
A burden that has taken its toll.

The days grow long, the nights too brief,
In search of solace, in search of relief.
My spirit falters, my body worn,
Through endless hours, both night and morn.

Yet in the dusk, a glimmer of light,
A promise of rest, of dreams taking flight.
Hope lingers on the horizon’s edge,
A beacon that cuts through the weary wedge.

So I press on, through the mist and the haze,
With the strength of the dawn, and the end of the maze.
For in every struggle, in every fight,
Lies the promise of peace, the dawn of the night.