In the quiet breath between the years,
Lies a tale of dreams and fears,
A fleeting line we often pass,
The dash that holds our time’s vast mass.

Through whispered winds and gentle rain,
It speaks of joy, it speaks of pain,
The moments caught in time’s embrace,
The hidden heartbeat of our race.

In every laugh, in every tear,
The dash records what we hold dear,
A silent witness to our stride,
In shadows where our hopes reside.

So cherish well the time bestowed,
For in that dash, our stories flowed,
A legacy in simple grace,
The dash that marks our fleeting space.