In realms where shadows dance and night prevails,
A battle rages, ancient as the stars,
Between the forces dark and light entails,
An epic struggle, scars upon the scars.
Within the cosmic tapestry, they clash,
The mighty and the meek, their roles defined,
The darkness seeks to grasp and tightly lash,
While light resists, unwavering, aligned.
Yet in this cosmic clash, a prophecy,
Foretells a shift when tides of fate shall turn,
The meek, enlightened souls, their hearts set free,
Shall rise as lightworkers, no longer spurned.
As darkness trembles at the dawn\'s embrace,
The lightworkers emerge from slumber deep,
With spirits stirred, they\'ll rise, assume their place,
Awakening the world from dreamless sleep.
They draw upon the radiance within,
An inner fire, an eternal flame,
Their purpose now unfolds, the fight to win,
To spread compassion, love\'s enduring aim.
The mighty, who in arrogance once stood,
Shall stumble, fall, their empires in decay,
While lightworkers, in humility so good,
Shall heal the scars and guide the righteous way.
The earth, a canvas, painted by their deeds,
Shall witness transformation, as they soar,
United hearts, compassion\'s fertile seeds,
A tapestry of light, forevermore.
And so, the battle\'s tides begin to shift,
As lightworkers awaken, spirits rise,
In unity, their mighty hearts uplift,
To claim their destined place beneath the skies.
The dance of darkness and of light proceeds,
Yet hope and love shall be the final word,
For in the end, the darkness always bleeds,
And light\'s eternal grace will be conferred.
As time unfolds its tale, we\'ll come to see,
The truth embedded in this ancient lore,
That from the battle, light shall yet break free,
And darkness fades as lightworkers restore.
Inkerbell