In the silent march of fleeting hours,
Time weaves its tapestry of fleeting flowers.
Moments slip through like grains of sand,
Lost forever in eternity’s hand.
Yet in each breath, a hope remains,
A whisper of what still sustains.
Though days may flee and hours fly,
Within our hearts, true dreams lie.
For time, though swift, can’t steal the soul,
It’s in our memories we’re whole.
A legacy of love, of hopes we sow,
In time’s embrace, we learn, we grow.
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