In the cradle of dawn, a whisper of dreams,Sons arise with the morning’s golden beams.Innocent laughter, a world yet unknown,Through fields of wonder, their spirits have grown.Each step they take, a dance with the skies,Chasing horizons with wide-open eyes.From tiny fingers grasping the air,To hands that build dreams, beyond compare.The seasons change, and time gently weaves,Stories of courage, of hopes and beliefs.From gentle whispers to voices that sing,Sons become men, embracing everything.As moonlight kisses their paths ahead,They carry the love in words unsaid.In every heartbeat, a legacy flows,A journey of sons, where the spirit grows.