Rest becomes costly at times-not because the body refuses it, but the soul. It doesn't say "exhausted," but it expresses purpose in that, "Rest No More." It stands for those kinds who have seen too much stagnation considering it peace-they know well that stillness without movement is disguised decay.
To rest no more is to pick the tempest rather than the still lake, the acceptance that movement creates meaning. It is spirit unleashed rebellion against soft routines that usually dull the keen knife of ambition. In a world sedated by convenience, it is in itself an act of resistance to stay awake.
No more will you sleep until that which your hands have fashioned is worth sleepless nights-a construction, a legacy, a testament that you have not merely passed through these hours but etched your name into them. Not until the fire within learns the rhythms of endurance, until the dream becomes something that breathes outside of you, rest no more.
For every builder, author, thinker, and dreamer, rest no more has been exiled from punishment-it's a freeing exodus from inertia. Bodies can be tired, but those minds that refuse the comforts of complacency are what keep the wheels of tomorrow turning. No more sleep, for the restless alone are the makers of the ear to which the world is listening.
