In the cradle of dawn, where shadows lengthen
and the whisper of night kisses the horizon,
a gentle glow unfurls like a long-forgotten song.
Nostalgic echoes dance upon the ripples
of time, weaving tales of silken memories.
Beneath the tapestry of a waking sky,
remnants of yesterday's dreams cling softly,
fading gently into the embrace of light.
Melancholic hues painted in slivers of sorrow,
remind us of what was, beneath what will be.
The luminous tide breaks upon silent shores,
each wave a note in the symphony of dawn,
harmonies etched in the fabric of existence.
Here, luminescence rises, not with the fury of noon,
but with the tender grace of morning's touch.