In the quiet whispers of the morning light,
Time unfolds its gentle wings,
Carving paths through endless sky,
A dance of moments, soft and bright.
The ticking echoes in the heart’s own beat,
Each second a story, a fleeting grace,
Holding dreams in its tender clasp,
Guiding us through an endless chase.
Under the moon’s watchful gaze,
Time weaves tales of love and loss,
In shadows long and shadows brief,
A tapestry of stars, a bridge we cross.
Yet in the stillness of the night,
Time’s embrace feels ever near,
A silent guardian of our hopes,
Carrying whispers only we can hear.