In the cradle of dawn, they rise,
Sons of the morning, with eyes so bright,
Chasing shadows with endless skies,
In the tapestry of golden light.

Their laughter dances with the breeze,
Echoes of dreams in the azure air,
Bound by the whispers of ancient trees,
In a world woven with tender care.

They paint the heavens with their flight,
Sculpting clouds with gentle grace,
Guided by stars in the velvet night,
In the quest for a timeless embrace.

Sons of the sun, with spirits bold,
Guardians of the light they hold,
In their hearts, stories untold,
Of love eternal, and dreams of gold.