“Founders looking for light at the end of tunnel”

In corridors echoing with hope and doubt,  
Founders shuffle, tireless, heart worn out—  
Blueprints crumpled in trembling hands,  
They conjure futures from shifting sands.  

Each morning breaks with a stubborn fire,  
Coffee and code, ambition higher,  
A flashlight beam through thinning mist,  
They chase a dream that can’t be dismissed.  

Sleepless beneath the ceaseless hum  
Of glowing screens in night’s dark drum,  
They patch the holes in plans once bright  
And look, again, for a shaft of light.  

Investors’ words blow hot and cold,  
The market’s verdict—brash, or bold—  
Lean budgets, friends with patient ears,  
And moments sharp with unspent tears.  

But oh, how golden shines the dawn  
When hope outlasts the hours long gone,  
And through the gloom, they get a sight—  
The soft arrival of new light.  

For every tunnel, deep and long,  
Unspools a trail of courage strong;  
And founders know, by heart and sight,  
It’s sweat and faith that bring the light.

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