In the quiet whispers of a painted dawn,
The brushstrokes of existence take their flight.
Colors blend in the canvas of our days,
Crafting dreams in the palette of the night.

A symphony of moments weave together,
Notes of joy and sorrow in their tune.
Life’s ballet on the stage of fleeting time,
Each step a masterpiece beneath the moon.

Sculpted by the hands of fate and choice,
Our spirits carve their forms in endless clay.
The chisel of experience shapes our hearts,
And molds the sculptures of a passing day.

In the gallery of memories we wander,
Gazing at the artworks of our years.
Each piece a testament to life’s grand opus,
Painted with the brush of laughter and of tears.