In silent labs where circuits hum, Where shadows stretch and tools grow numb, A restless fire begins to rise— Not seen by sight, but felt through skies. Between the gears and metal cold, Lies something far more rare than gold. It’s not the code, or bolt, or beam— It’s purpose—etched into a dream. The spark within the steel ignites, Not born of flame, but sleepless nights. From minds that fail, yet try once more, From hearts that seek what’s gone before. A line of code, a broken wire, Can light a world or start a fire. Mistakes become a guiding star, Each error drawing genius far. We measure twice, we cut, we weld, We chase the truth long held, withheld. We build not just what eyes can see— But dreams shaped by tenacity. From bridges bent toward the blue, To engines built from passion true, From satellites that chart the skies, To cities where our hopes arise— The world we touch, the lives we change, Lie far beyond the drawing range. What starts as steel and silent thought Becomes...