In the quiet hours of the night,Where dreams and reality blur,The heart seeks solace from the fight,Yet finds the silence a heavy cure.Weary eyes trace the moon’s path,A tired dance with time and space,As shadows cast their gentle wrath,On a soul yearning for embrace.The sun rises with a familiar sigh,A gentle reminder of the day’s demand,While spirit and body softly cry,For a peace they may never understand.Yet in the depth of this fatigue,Hope lingers like a distant song,A melody of strength to intrigue,Guiding the weary heart along.