The Call at Midnight
The call comes at midnight, cutting through the dark,
A siren in the silence, igniting the spark.
Sleep is forgotten, as adrenaline flows,
We rise in an instant, ready to go.
The night is thick, the world still asleep,
But we answer the call, into shadows we creep.
The air is cold, the road stretches long,
Yet in our hearts, we're already strong.
Voices crackle through radios' hum,
Coordinates set, the mission begun.
With boots on the ground, and lights flashing bright,
We charge through the blackness, prepared for the fight.
No thought of the hour, no thought of the cost,
Only one mission: to find what is lost.
Through twisting roads and uncharted land,
We work as one, a well-oiled command.
The night may be silent, but inside we race,
With each passing second, we quicken our pace.
For in the shadows, someone waits alone,
And we won't rest until they're safely home.
The midnight hour holds no fear,
When duty calls, we're always near.
For the ones who are lost, for the lives that we save,
We answer with heart, determined and brave.
So let the night fall, let the darkness loom,
We'll light up the skies, piercing the gloom.
For when the call comes, no matter the time,
We leap into action, without reason or rhyme.
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Whispers of the Soul
PoésieIn "Whispers of the Soul," the poet invites readers on an intimate journey through the intricacies of human emotion and experience. This collection captures the delicate balance of joy and sorrow, love and loss, solitude and connection. Each poem se...
