In the quiet hush of twilight’s embrace,
Wrinkles tell tales of life’s long chase.
Eyes that once sparkled with youthful fire,
Now hold a wisdom, deep and dire.

Hands that have held both love and pain,
Weary from years, yet strong remains.
Their touch, a map of journeys far,
Etched in skin like an ancient scar.

The heart, though slower, beats with grace,
Each throb a memory, each pause a space.
It knows the worth of every breath,
And dances calmly with thoughts of death.

In old age, there’s a gentle peace,
As life’s vibrant symphony starts to cease.
Yet in the silence, a melody stays,
Whispering softly through the days.