In the quiet corners of forgotten lands,Echoes of names softly take their stand.Each syllable a fragment of the past,Carving identities meant to last.Names like rivers flow through time,Sculpting the essence, rhythmic and rhyme.They tell of journeys, battles, and dreams,Weaving through history’s endless streams.With every whisper, a legacy wakes,In the hearts of those it gently shakes.Identity forged in letters and sound,A tapestry of life, profoundly profound.Yet in the silence, names still remain,Guardians of stories, joy, and pain.In the dance of shadows, they softly call,Defining the self, embracing us all.