In the quiet chambers of endless night.
Sweet temptations they must spurn,
For each taste is a lesson hard to learn.
The world of sugar, a forbidden land,
Where joy and pain walk hand in hand.
A piece of candy, a slice of pie,
Are dreams that pass them sorrowfully by.
Wounds that whisper, wounds that scream,
Healing is a far-off dream.
For when the skin is torn and frayed,
Hope in shadows deep is laid.
Each cut, each scrape, a silent fear,
Will this be the one that won't disappear?
Hands that suffer, feet that mourn,
A body weary, tired, and worn.
And yet, amidst this struggle and strife,
There’s a glimmer, the spark of life.
Strength in their hearts, resilience found,
In the face of hardship, they stand their ground.
Today, my mother lies in wait,
For the hands of fate to medicate.
Her hand, her strength, to heal and mend,
A prayer sent for pain to end.
May the wounds of today swiftly fade,
In the light of love, in hope's cascade.
For a mother's touch, a hand to hold,
Is a story of strength, forever told.
So here’s to the fighters, brave and true,
In the face of all that they must do.
May healing find them, peace impart,
And bring solace to each weary heart.
Imran Nazeer
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