Fleeting Bloom
The Dawn of Morn
The sun, it rose with golden light,
A vibrant youth, so bold and bright.
With laughter ringing, spirits free,
A boundless, hopeful energy.
The Evening Sigh
But seasons turn, the colors fade,
A gentle dusk, a quieter glade.
The years like whispers, soft and low,
Where once was fire, embers glow.
A Gentle Trace
Though youth may wane, and time takes flight,
A deeper wisdom, shining bright.
The memories etched, a precious art,
Forever held within the heart.
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