Exhaustion: A Symphony of Silence.

In the quiet hum of early dawn,
Where the night clings to the fading stars,
There lies a soul, weary and worn,
Beneath the weight of countless scars.

A heart that once beat wild and free,
Now drags itself through endless days,
A shadow of what it used to be,
Caught in a relentless maze.

Oh, how the mind becomes a storm,
Churning thoughts like restless seas,
Each one pulling, twisting, torn,
No moment’s peace, no gentle breeze.

The body trembles, aching deep,
Bones like lead, and muscles frail,
Yet onward, through the mire, it creeps,
A ship adrift with tattered sail.

Eyes that once could see the light,
Now dull and glazed, a heavy shroud,
No longer seeking day or night,
Just drifting in a hazy cloud.

The dreams that sparkled, once so bright,
Now faded whispers, lost in time,
A distant echo in the night,
A verse without a rhyming line.

How heavy is the weight of day,
When every breath feels like a chore,
Each step a price too great to pay,
And rest a hope, nothing more.

The hands that built and toiled with pride,
Now tremble weakly at the task,
No longer strong enough to hide,
The questions no one dares to ask.

“Where has the fire gone?” they plead,
That once ignited every goal,
Now barely sparks, as if to heed,
The hollow cries of a burning soul.

Each heartbeat echoes, dull and slow,
A metronome of endless grief,
In rhythms only shadows know,
A cadence craving sweet relief.

The world continues, as it must,
Unyielding to the weary pleas,
Of those who fall and turn to dust,
In search of rest, elusive ease.

But where is solace to be found,
When even sleep, a fleeting guest,
Provides no peace, just circles round,
An endless race, a cursed quest.

The night that once was sanctuary,
Now stretches long, an empty void,
A silent vigil, solitary,
Where peace and rest are both destroyed.

Time drags its feet in sullen march,
Each second heavy with despair,
And every breath a tortured arch,
Through lungs that strain for thinning air.

Oh, if the world could stop its spin,
If only for a fleeting breath,
To grant reprieve to those within,
This dance with life, this flirt with death.

Yet still it turns, relentless, cold,
Indifferent to the cries of man,
And so the weary, tired and old,
Must carry on as best they can.

Through days that stretch, through nights that bend,
Till time itself becomes a foe,
No beginning and no end,
Just a continuum of woe.

Yet in the midst of this despair,
A quiet voice begins to rise,
A whisper soft, like summer air,
That promises no more disguise.

“Rest, oh soul, and lay down low,
Let go the burdens you have borne,
For in the stillness, you shall know,
The peace for which you’ve always yearned.”

And so the weary heart reclines,
Not in defeat, but in release,
Allowing all the tangled lines,
To gently fall, to find their peace.

The mind, at last, begins to slow,
The storm subsides, the seas are calm,
And in the silence, faint and low,
There comes a sense of soothing balm.

The body, once a cage of pain,
Now loosens, as if freed from chains,
And though the scars of past remain,
They fade into the distant rains.

For exhaustion, though it drains the soul,
And weighs the spirit, bends the spine,
Is but a chapter in the whole,
A moment in the grand design.

And from the ashes, there will rise,
A strength reborn, a soul renewed,
To face the world with clearer eyes,
And walk a path no longer skewed.

For in the quiet, in the rest,
There lies a truth we often miss,
That life is more than just the test,
It’s found in moments such as this.

So let the weary find their way,
To rest, to peace, to silent nights,
For in the dawn of a new day,
They’ll rise again, with strength and light.

And though exhaustion takes its toll,
It cannot claim the final word,
For in the depths, within the soul,
There’s always hope, a voice unheard.

It whispers softly, “Rest, my dear,
For soon the dawn will break anew,
And all the pain that brought you here,
Will fade, as morning paints the view.”

So sleep, dear soul, and let it go,
The weight, the pain, the endless fight,
For in the dawn’s first gentle glow,
You’ll find your wings, and take your flight.

No longer bound by tired chains,
No longer lost in endless night,
You’ll rise above these earthly plains,
And soar again, in purest light.

For exhaustion is but a phase,
A passing storm, a fleeting rain,
And though it darkens many days,
It cannot bind the heart’s refrain.

So let the weary take their rest,
And know that in the quiet’s breath,
There lies the key to life’s true quest,
Beyond exhaustion, beyond death.

In stillness, we reclaim our song,
In silence, we find strength anew,
And though the nights may seem so long,
The dawn will always pull us through.

For in the end, it’s not the fight,
Nor the struggle, nor the pain,
But the peace we find in quiet nights,
That heals the heart, that breaks the chain.

So rest, dear soul, and let it be,
For in the stillness, you’ll find me,
Waiting there, in soft embrace,
To guide you to a safer place.

Where exhaustion fades like mist at dawn,
And all that’s left is light and grace,
A new beginning, freshly drawn,
In the tender warmth of a soft embrace.