In the quiet of the night, the body speaks,
A silent language through every creak and sigh,
Each muscle, each bone, tells a tale unique,
Of days gone by and dreams that fly high.
The hands, they move with grace untold,
Crafting memories in their tender hold,
Every scar a testament, every line a song,
Of battles fought and love prolonged.
The heart, it beats a rhythm profound,
A melody of life in every sound,
Pulsing with the essence of our being,
A dance of existence, ever-seeing.
The eyes, windows to the soul’s deep sea,
Reflecting the vastness of what we see,
Glimmers of joy, shadows of sorrow,
Stories of today and hopes for tomorrow.