In the quiet twilight of ambition's day,
Where dreams once bloomed, now colors fade to gray.
A weary heart, once burning bright and fierce,
Finds solace in the thought to disperse.
The race, relentless, promised glory's touch,
But hollow victories never meant as much.
For in the chase of what was meant to be,
One finds the weight of silent tyranny.
To quit, a word so final and so stark,
Yet in its frame, there lies a hidden spark.
A chance to breathe, to let go of the strain,
To find oneself and one's passion again.
It's not defeat to know when to retreat,
To listen close to one's own heart's soft beat.
For in the space where obligations end,
New paths emerge, and broken wings may mend.
So here's to those who bravely step away,
From battles that no longer serve their way.
May quitting be the start of something new,
A journey to a self that's more true.
