The world outside is dark with swirling winds:
Where ancient shadows twist, and doubts collide.
With pensive grace, her quiet thoughts begin:
A steady anchor in the rising tide.
She holds a vision framed in brilliant light:
A crimson sun that warms a winding stream,
Where peaceful valleys open to the sight,
And hearths are lit beneath a gentle gleam.
It takes nothing to carve a path of grace,
But quiet strength to keep the dream alive.
To look beyond the darkness of this place,
And plant the seeds where harmony can thrive.
With finger pressed to lips, she guards the dream,
The courage to imagine something new.
For peace begins when we can speak its name,
And paint the world in shades of green and blue.
Page created on 5/28/2026 7:47:12 AM
Last edited 5/28/2026 9:37:33 AM