These hands, they speak a language old,
In gentle touch, their stories unfold.
A compass guiding through night and day,
The silent whispers lead the way.
Eyes like windows, vast and deep,
Holding secrets they gently keep.
A gaze that dances in the night,
Illuminating paths of light.
Feet that wander on unknown trails,
Through whispered winds and whispered gales.
With every step, a journey starts,
A dance of life, where soul departs.
Heart, the drum that beats within,
A rhythm flowing, beneath the skin.
In every throb, a promise lies,
A melody that never dies.