In morning’s blush, a delicate pastel,
Arousing dreams where expectations stay,
Brilliant beams wind through the trees,
Time spreads out no sweat.
As early afternoon touches off with lively tint,
Blazing reds and brilliant blue,
Minutes rush, a clear race,
Life painted on a sunlit face.
Then, at that point, nightfall shows up, in muffled conceals,
Purples mix where light blurs,
A murmuring quiet, the world moans,
Time enclosed by sundown’s appearance.
12 PM shrouded in profound, rich dark,
Stars like silver recollections track,
In haziness, stories of ages past,
The shades of time, always cast.
So paint your days with each shade,
Allow minutes to wait, never blur,
For in the material of our lives,
The shades of time are where trust flourishes.
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