The sky weeps heavily, its tears swallowed by the sea,
Amidst the storm, his lantern glows,
Where Linus drifts on wood, as small as hope can be.
A flicker of light in darkest throes.
Thunder growls, waves roar like beasts,
The night is fierce, hope’s but a feast.
Linus clings to his floating raft,
His heart a beacon, his will unshaft.
Each drop of rain a falling star,
Each flash of lightning a scar.
The sea’s a canvas painted wild,
Yet Linus holds on, a steadfast child.
Lost in the expanse, no land in sight,
But his lantern burns through the deepest night.
Its flame a whisper, a promise kept,
While the wind and waves in chaos swept.
Storm clouds loom, an endless grey,
But hope’s flame does not sway.
Little Linus, brave and true,
His lantern’s light sees him through.
In life’s tempest, we’re all like him,
Adrift and seeking a glimmer within.
So in the darkest storm, hold tight,
And let your hope be your guiding light.
The lantern sways with each swell and trough,
Its light a testament to a spirit that never scoffs.
Linus’s hands, so small and cold,
Clutch the wood as stories unfold.
He remembers faces, names that warm,
Memories of love before the storm.
His mother’s voice, a lullaby sweet,
Echoes in the rhythm of the sea’s heartbeat.
The ocean whispers secrets old,
Of sailors lost and treasures untold.
Yet Linus’s heart, so bold, remains,
As hope and light course through his veins.
His eyes reflect the lantern’s gleam,
A dream within a dream within a dream.
Though rain cascades, and night is fierce,
The light of hope the dark will pierce.
Through tempests vast, he navigates,
For in his chest, resolve pulsates.
The storm may rage, the sea may groan,
But Linus knows he’s not alone.
For in the darkest hour’s plight,
The smallest flame can burn so bright.
A lantern’s glow, a beacon pure,
In the heart of one so young, so sure.
Ignited 