In the quiet breath of morning, shadows dance,
Whispering tales of sorrow, tender, and forlorn.
The echoes of yesterday linger, a mournful trance,
In the heart’s silent dawn, where tears are born.

The trees sway gently, cradling the silent weep,
Leaves falling like memories, soft and pale.
In this garden of grief, where the heart does keep,
The stories of love lost, a poignant tale.

The wind carries whispers of names once dear,
Carved in the hollow of time, where silence reigns.
In the embrace of the night, every falling tear
Becomes a river of longing, of unbroken chains.

Yet in the horizon’s gentle embrace, hope glows,
A promise of dawn beyond the veils of sorrow.
For every ending, a new beginning softly shows,
In the tender songs of tomorrow’s borrowed.