All rise like dawn in rhythmic beat.
A world begins with whispered light,
Softly burning, bold and bright.
We build with faith, with threads so thin,
A life imagined deep within.
Each glance, each word, a silent prayer,
Of love we thought would linger there.
But time, it has its silent ways,
To fold the nights and steal the days.
No thunder roars, no bell is rung,
Just silence where a song was sung.
No reason given, no hand to hold,
The warmth retreats, the trail grows cold.
One moment near, the next — apart,
A shadow pressed against the heart.
And yet we breathe, and rise once more,
Gathering dreams from the broken floor.
For even when it all falls flat,
We learn, we grow — imagine that.
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