In the depths of shadows, where anguish finds its abode,
A soul awakens, bereft of will to traverse the road.
Born without hope, a vessel crafted in perpetual gloom,
No ember within, no fervor to consume.

Why inhale life's breath if no joy therein resides?
A marionette, a puppet, in apathy's tides.
No purpose, no direction to ardently pursue,
In silence, dwells an unwavering heartache, oh so true.

Yet within this obscurity, where sorrow claims its throne,
A glimmer emerges, as if from dreams far-flung and sown.
A will to endure, to brave affliction's cruel sting,
To tread a path where hope may gradually spring.

The echoes of a smile, long faded from view,
Reside deep within a heart that lingers and seeks what's true.
Through tears, each day is valiantly fought with faltering might,
To unearth a reason, a glimmer of resplendent light.

A solemn dance, to master the weight we bear,
Navigating a world so desolate and unfair.
Though fragile, strength arises from the abyss,
A tender blossom in sorrow's relentless abyss.

For even in the absence of fervent desire's reign,
A flicker persists, refusing to wane.
In every act of resilience, however minute,
Lies the semblance of purpose, albeit undefined and acute.

So let us weep for dreams that falter and fall astray,
And mourn the joy that withers, little by little, day by day.
But know, dear soul, that even amidst despair's chilling breath,
A will to endure, to rise, to strive, defies the grip of death.

Though born without an innate yearning to persist,
The heart can adapt, coexist, in adversity's midst.
In time, perchance, a purpose shall gracefully unfold,
Breathing renewed life into a weary soul, once untold.