— By: Km.Jummin Rime
Cl-VIII, VKV Kharsang
Weakness whispers, soft and clear,
A spark to mend what’s broken here.
A quiet cry, a breath of air,
Daring hearts to rise and care.
The grass hums with a gentle tune,
A longing born beneath the moon.
It stirs the soul to feel the weight,
Of freedom’s call, of life’s true fate.
A cold breeze brushes past your face,
After years of numb embrace.
The scent of flowers once unseen,
Now hints at all that could have been.
From weakness blooms a strength so bright,
Emerging from the darkest night.
To shape the things left yet undone,
And sing—your journey’s just begun.
