Gameless Shadows

Gameless Shadows

In the realm of shadows, whispers surround,
A tale of absence, where hopes are unwound.
Heung-Min Son, a glimmering star of might,
Will dim his light, missed through day and night.

Upon the pitch, where battles fiercely wage,
His absence painted on each curve and page.
Tottenham’s captain, now veiled in despair,
Fans’ hearts burdened with an unwelcome glare.

The games unfold, like petals gently fall,
But without Son’s fire, a void traps them all.
In each missed fixture, wounds deeper embed,
As hopes of victory hang by a thread.

Yet, time spins on, and healing shall commence,
For wounded hearts find solace in recompense.
With each passing day, a glimpse of his grace,
Son’s return draws near, to embrace and chase.

Though key fixtures loom, with longing we sigh,
As we eagerly wait for Son to defy.
The darkness that lingers, he’ll banish away,
And light up the pitch with his radiant play.

Oh, Tottenham’s hero, we yearn for your might,
For with you our dreams are alight.
So, hurry back, Son, and grace us with your art,
To mend the shadows and ignite our heart.