We gaze upon your faces,
bright as morning, fragile as dew,
and feel the ancient weight of promise
rest upon our hearts.

The world is not gentle,
we know its shadows,
its hunger,
its forgetting.
It has little mercy for tender hands,
for the first laughter,
for beginnings still unformed.

Yet we are your mothers.
And as long as breath lives in us,
we will stand between you and the storm.
We will cradle your innocence
as a flame in the dark,
we will guard your laughter
as gold hidden deep within the earth.

We have seen the shadows
reach for the young,
felt the cold hand of indifference,
heard the stillness heavy with unspoken courage.
And we have sworn,
with every pulse of our blood,
that you will not inherit
a world that betrays its children.

You deserve skies unbroken,
waters that sing with purity,
streets where your names
are lifted in love, not carved in grief.
You deserve futures
wide as the horizon,
unfolding in light,
untouched by fear.

We will lift our voices,
even if they tremble.
We will raise our hands,
even if they bleed.
Your safety is our covenant,
your tomorrow our unyielding prayer.

And if the world dares to turn away,
let it hear the cry of mothers,
fierce as fire,
unyielding as stone:

These are our children.
Their lives are sacred.
Their futures beyond price.

We will not let you be forgotten.
We will not let you be broken.
And even should we fall,
our vow will remain,
written into the soil,
carried on the wind,
sung by the generations
who rise from your steps.

For the children,
for all children,
we will build a world
worthy of your breath.