A Litany for Survival

Though shadows whisper fear and doubt, we rise, with roots that dig and sprout.

For survival, it craves a vibrant bloom. A heart that dares to chase the moon.

Though storms may lash and waves may crash, we hold, like oaks, with branches rash.

Survival calls for weathered bark. A spirit fierce that leaves its mark.

Though paths may twist and turn unseen, we sing with purpose, ever keen.

Survival seeks a guiding rhyme—a melody that conquers time.

Though burdens may press and tears may fall, we rise again and answer them all.

For survival, whispers, soft and strong, A chorus hummed our whole lives.