Beneath the Stone
Beneath the earth, where sunlight dies,
A miner toils with weary eyes.
His world of shadow, soot, and grit,
A testament to human grit.
The pickaxe rings a solemn song,
In caverns dark, where echoes long.
Each strike a promise, hard and true,
To carve a living where few dare to.
The air is thick, the light is dim,
The walls seem to close in on him.
But in his heart, a steady fire,
Fueled by dreams and fierce desire.
He thinks of home, the warmth, the glow,
A far-off world he longs to know.
For every lump of coal he claims,
He feeds the hearth, he feeds the flames.
Beneath the stone, his courage shines,
A beacon in the deepest mines.
A life of toil, yet full of worth,
A miner’s bond with Mother Earth.