In the grind of daily toil, where dreams are set aside, A soul becomes a stranger, in life's relentless tide. The mirror shows a visage, that's worn and so bereft, Of the fiery spirit within, before ambition left. The clock ticks on, relentless, hours into years, And in the hum of silence, one forgets their cheers.

The passion once so vibrant, now a distant flame, A heart once full of music, now forgets its name. But then, a note so tender, drifts into the air, A melody from yesteryears, a whisper of a dare. It stirs the dormant embers, of a fire long denied, And in that fleeting moment, a spark is re-ignited.