In the quiet dawn, where shadows linger,
A mother’s hands, worn yet tender,
Cradle dreams woven from quiet whispers,
She gives her warmth to the chill of night.

The soldier stands, heart heavy with duty,
Amidst the chaos, he finds his courage,
Every step forward, a piece left behind,
For love that transcends the call of the self.

A child’s laughter, a fleeting moment,
In the sacrifice of a parent’s ambition,
Years fade into the echoes of choices,
Each sacrifice a silent testament.

The artist paints in hues of longing,
Pouring out fragments of their soul,
For the world’s gaze, they lay bare their heart,
Beauty born from the depths of surrender.

In...