In the heart of time’s embrace,
Where whispers of old tales reside,
Cultures weave a tapestry of grace,
A dance where histories confide.

Beneath the moon’s gentle glow,
Songs of ancestors softly play,
In rhythms only the soul can know,
Guiding footsteps in night and day.

Colors blend in the vibrant thread,
Stories carved in wood and stone,
Where every word once softly said,
Lives on in hearts, never alone.

In the echoes of tradition’s call,
We find ourselves a part of all,
In unity, we rise and fall,
Bound by the stories we recall.