The Silent March of Time: A Journey Unseen, The Gentle Whispers of Days Gone By, The Ever-Fading Moments We Cannot Hold

Poetry Image

In the quiet hours before the dawn,
Time flows like a river’s gentle song.
Moments slip through fingers, swiftly drawn,
Into the past where they belong.

The sun rises, casting golden light,
On memories etched in morning dew.
Each second, a fleeting, wondrous sight,
A tapestry of days we knew.

Evening shadows stretch across the land,
Marking the end of another day.
Time, a silent traveler hand in hand,
Guiding us on this endless way.

Stars appear in the velvet sky above,
Whispering secrets of ages old.
In their glow, we find a timeless love,
In moments cherished, stories told.

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