In the quiet dawn of morning’s light,
Life awakens with a gentle sigh,
Each moment a prose, softly penned,
On the canvas of the sky.

Beneath the stars that shimmer bright,
Stories of joy and sorrow blend,
In every heart, a tale unfolds,
Of dreams and paths that never end.

Through valleys deep and mountains high,
We walk with hope in every stride,
The prose of life, a winding road,
With love and loss, side by side.

As twilight falls and shadows play,
The final verse begins to form,
A legacy etched in the twilight’s hue,
In the prose of life, we are reborn.