In the hush of dawn, a small cry remains,  
a fragile breath, the world begins to spin,  
tiny fingers grasping shadows, light veils dreams,  
in the garden of hopes, new life sings.

Laughter spills like sunlight through tender leaves,  
the dance of youth, innocence wrapped in gold,  
chasing fleeting moments, moments chase the breeze,  
painting on the canvas of stories untold.

Seasons shift like whispers, time's gentle hand,  
first love blooms in blush, beneath the sky so clear,  
yet storms break the silence, soft hearts often break,  
shattering like glass, reflections disappear.

Days turn to nights, shadows stretching long,  
memories like petals fall, soft and sweet,  
each moment a treasure, but time slips away,  
the music of life played on bittersweet streets.

In the quiet twilight, a whisper is heard,  
dreams fade like fireflies, lost in the gloom,  
but there lies a beauty in each fleeting breath,  
woven through our hearts, in the fabric of doom.

And as the lantern dims, a sigh fills the air,  
life's fleeting echo, a soft, tender tune,  
in the embrace of farewell, love lingers still,  
each ending a story, life softly consumed.

In the stillness of night, beneath starlit skies,  
a flicker of hope, in the sadness we share,  
for life, though it wanes, in memories thrives,  
beautifully short, yet profoundly rare.