ALSphere Foundation
The waning gibbous, the slumber-deep and dark;
Etches upon the anxious awaits a sanguine spark.
The silence of each eensy luminary,
Is whimsical and pretty illusionary;
An arcane gloom surreptitiously arrives,
But only whilst it’s nearing the sunrise.
Clarion of silence echoes the vale,
Trepidations of despair tell the tale;
But in the stalwart’s heart, rests an aurora untold,
To the mettlesome, the view is beatific to behold;
For, they have faith in the ongoing process,
The darkest of hours has only sixty minutes of distress.
And there appears, the silver lining,
For the intrepid who trusted the nature’s designing;
A streak of hope, in the distant horizon,
Challenging the grim to succumb and brighten;
The new dawn heralds with a promising beam,
To turn over a new leaf, to usher a new dream.
