The path unwinds, a tapestry of gray,
With stones of doubt that block the sun's bright ray.
A weary heart, a spirit worn and low,
Whispers, 'Give up,' and lets the tears flow.

But deep within, a flicker, faint and small,
A voice that cries, 'Rise up, stand tall!'
For in the depths of every darkest night,
There burns a fire, a beacon, shining bright.

The struggle's real, the mountains high and steep,
But every step, a chance to conquer,...