This is for you, worn down and low,
Who walks through storms with nowhere to go.
For days that drag, for nights that sting,
For hearts too tired to feel a thing.
Keep fighting—not for praise or cheer,
But for the voice you barely hear.
It whispers soft beneath the pain:
"You're meant for more than loss and strain."
Keep fighting through the darkest night,
Your future self is burning bright.
She's cheering loud beyond the haze,
She knows you'll rise from shadowed days.
You'll reach the light, you'll find your flame,
You'll wear your scars without a name.
And when you do, you'll see it true—
It all was worth it. All for you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem