Commencement:
I. Under the bed where shadows creep,
A pauper heart begins to weep.
Dust and dreams in tangled thread,
A lantern sleeps beneath the bed.
Its glimmer whispers, soft and low,
A call the pauper doesn’t know.
“Peewee,” hums the hidden flame,
“Remember light, before you came.”
He blinks, unsure, his cloak askew,
“I’m small,” he sighs, “what can I do?”
But courage stirs — a tiny spark,
That warms the corners of the dark.
One trembling hand, one breath, one glance,
The lantern wakes — a golden dance.
And in that glow, the truth appears:
The path begins when light meets fears.