In the cradle of dawn, where light flickers low,
Life unfurls like a whisper, a river of woe,
In the heart of the struggle, where dreams meet despair,
We weave our existence with threads worn and bare.
The laughter of children, a fleeting refrain,
Echoes through hallways, like soft falling rain,
Yet shadows deepen as years swiftly pass,
Each moment a grain, slipping through the glass.
Promises made on the lips of the young,
In the tapestry woven, those sweet songs unsung,
Time stretches like shadows beneath a pale moon,
And the weight of existence hums a mournful tune.
Beneath every smile, a sorrow concealed,
A garden of heartache, where dreams once healed,
In the eyes of the weary, a story unfolds,
Of love that once flourished, now quiet and cold.
Oh, the beauty in heartache, the ache in the grace,
The dance of the spirits, that time can’t erase,
Yet the clock ever ticks, oblivion’s hand,
Guiding each heartbeat through a desolate land.
We carve out a path in the silence and strife,
Searching for meaning, the essence of life,
With each fleeting moment, we gather our scars,
And seek for the comfort in our own shining stars.
Yet the weight of the world presses down on our chests,
The laughter grows distant, as sorrow insists,
We wear our burdens like coats made of lead,
While the dreams of tomorrow slip softly to bed.
In the twilight we linger, we search for the light,
For even in shadows, there’s hope in the night,
Though the road may grow narrow, the skies may be gray,
A flicker remains, guiding souls on their way.
So let whispering winds carry our sighs,
And the tears that we shed blossom into the skies,
In the grand tapestry, through the weft and the weave,
Life’s depths cannot break us, for we are meant to grieve.
For within every heartbeat, within every wall,
There lies both the rise and the inevitable fall,
And as long as we gather, as long as we share,
In the shadows of time, we will find solace there.