Sleep sits softly upon her eyes,

But this tiny soldier,

refuses to ceasefire.

She yawns like surrender,

then clenches her fists.

As though dreams are a debt

she must retire.

What a contradiction!

Wrapped in a gown;

too weary to wake,

too stubborn to rest.

Her eyelids whisper,

"Let go, little one."

But she puts up a fight

..with all her might

So tired,

She could sleep through the sunrise

Yet

she spends her last strength

refusing the night.

Perhaps,

we grow up

before we know it,

Fighting hardest

for the peace we need best!