.jpg)
I noticed you now no longer in thunder's cry, But withinside the silence passing by. No grand parade, no flash of mild, Just regular steps thru darkest night.
I watched the manner you held your ground, When no applause or reward turned into found. You didn't boast, you didn't shout, You in reality labored the doubt proper out.
It wasn't wealth that stuck my eye, Nor splendor dressed to amplify. It turned into your soul — unpolished, bare, That burned with grace, that breathed with care.
You lift, you construct, you plant, you stay, When others fold or waft away. You combat with gentleness and grit, And by no means ask the arena to quit.
Admiration isn't lust or flame, It's now no longer a prize, it's now no longer a game. It's what I sense once I study A coronary heart that offers extra than it deserves.
The manner you pay attention speaks so loud, You keep your reality however by no means proud. You recognize the value of each climb, Yet nevertheless you supply your electricity to time.
I do now no longer desire to take your throne, I simplest lengthy to construct my own. For looking you, I've come to peer The quiet mild internal of me.
You stroll thru storms with out a shield, Your wounds are raw, but by no means sealed. And nevertheless you smile, and nevertheless you train, The splendor ache can every now and then reach.
Not each hero wears a crown, Some put on their scars like velvet gowns. Some talk in tones the soul can hear, And stand for desire whilst none is near.
So allow me inform you what's true, Admiration lives in you. Not for perfection, now no longer for fame, But for the hearthplace you by no means name.
You pass with reality below your skin, A conflict you combat and combat to win. And aleven though you stroll a quiet lane, You make the arena sense robust again.
So take this ode, this word, this art, From one who's watched you from the start. You might not recognize how tons you supply, But to your manner, you train me to live.