In the quiet of dawn, our names are whispered,
Carried by the gentle breeze, soft and clear,
Each syllable a fragment of our essence,
An echo of the lives we hold dear.

Beneath the stars, our identities gleam,
A constellation of stories, untold yet profound,
In the tapestry of time, we weave our dreams,
Lost and found, in the silence’s sound.

Our names, like rivers, carve through the land,
Shaping the valleys of who we are,
Flowing through the sands of time,
An eternal journey, near and far.

Through the shadows and light, we stand,
A mosaic of moments, bound by name,
In every whisper, a legacy unfolds,
In every breath, we rise to claim.