CIVIC DUTY

In a land where kings once ruled, a new voice emerges at dawn. It's a quiet call, but clear, a reminder of a duty reborn. A young person hears the echo on sacred ground, whispering stories. No longer ruled by force, but guided by the song of freedom. They see elders gathering around a weathered box, both familiar and strange. "The ballot box," someone explains, "where voices rise and stories are heard.” A curious mind wonders, "Voices rise? Stories are told?" A knowing smile and bright eyes answer, "It's your chance to choose where the future goes.” Cynical whispers try to discourage, "One small vote, will it even matter?" But hope ignites, a fire that chases away doubt. The voting day arrives, a vibrant scene of engaged faces. From local schools to grand halls, power shifts with each vote cast. The weight of many voices unites, a chorus banishing fear. More than a right, it's a sacred act, a way to heal and contribute. In this grand dance of shaping tomorrow, a single vote carries weight. Though uncertainty lingers, a nation's strength lies in its citizens. With a purpose, they stand and make their mark, a tiny act in freedom's shadow. For even the smallest voice can contribute to a nation's strong heartbeat. Now, walking under the sun, they know their voice mattered. The whisper's call, a guiding light, reminding them of their citizen's duty, forever bright.