The Youth Who Carried Dawn

By Mansi Joon

The world lay hushed beneath a slate of stone,

Its silent streets with weary echoes sown;

The skies were veiled in everlasting gray,

And time itself seemed captive to decay.

Yet from the gloom there rose a voice of flame,

A child of vision, carrying earth’s name;

Within her grasp, a fragile globe was found,

A sphere of dreams that spun without a sound.

Her gaze became a lantern in the night,

Her words, a river clothed in molten light;

She spoke of futures painted fierce and true,

Of realms reborn in scarlet, gold, and blue.

The gray retreated, trembling in its place,

As dawn’s first blush unsealed the morning’s face;

The barren stones grew verdant, bright, and fair,

When touched by hope’s indomitable care.

O youth, thou bearer of a changing age,

Thy vision writes new worlds on history’s page;

Though shadows cling, thy flame shall still remain,

A steadfast torch that darkness cannot chain.

So hold the globe, though heavy in thy hand,

For through thy dream the withered learns to stand;

And even void, when struck by thy command,

Unfolds to gardens vast, at thy demand.

By Mansi Joon