In the gentle dance of evening light,
Dust whispers secrets of the night,
Veils of time in silent flight,
Stories woven, out of sight.

Carried on the wings of breeze,
Through the branches of ancient trees,
A tapestry of mysteries,
Where past and present find their ease.

In every mote, a tale untold,
Of dreams and echoes, brave and bold,
Among the stars, they gently fold,
A silent saga, timeless gold.

And as the world in slumber lies,
The dust beneath the moonlit skies,
Breathes life to shadows, softly sighs,
In whispered truths that never die.