In shadows cast by moonlit beams,
Time whispers softly, unseen streams.
Through endless nights and fleeting days,
It weaves its dance in silent ways.
The ticking clock, a gentle guide,
Marks moments lost, where dreams reside.
In every breath, in every sigh,
Time’s unseen hand is passing by.
Within the heart, where memories dwell,
Time’s story, only moments tell.
From dawn’s first light to twilightâs hue,
Each second fades, yet feels so new.
Though time may fly on wings unseen,
It leaves behind what once has been.
In cherished thoughts and dreams of old,
The passage of time, a tale retold.