Beneath the gray and brooding sky,
Life murmurs low, its mournful sigh.
A path of thorns, a burdened tread,
Each step a whisper of the dread.

The heart is heavy, oft betrayed,
By fleeting dreams and plans mislaid.
Pain lingers like a shadowed mist,
A chill that clutches every wrist.

Yet, oh, to cast aside despair!
For joy is born from hearts laid bare.
To...