In the hush before the sunrise,
When the sky is still half-dream,
The world holds its breath softly
Beside the silver stream.
Leaves whisper old secrets
To the wandering morning breeze,
And shadows drift like memories
Between the waking trees.
A single bird breaks silence
With a song both bright and small,
As if hope itself were singing
Through the cracks in every wall.
The day begins in fragments—
Golden light on weathered stone,
Reminding every restless heart
It was never meant alone.
cIn the hush before the sunrise,
When the sky is still half-dream,
The world holds its breath softly
Beside the silver stream.
Leaves whisper old secrets
To the wandering morning breeze,
And shadows drift like memories
Between the waking trees.
A single bird breaks silence
With a song both bright and small,
As if hope itself were singing
Through the cracks in every wall.
The day begins in fragments—
Golden light on weathered stone,
Reminding every restless heart
It was never meant alone.
In the hush before the sunrise, When the sky is still half-dream, The world holds its breath softly Beside the silver stream. Leaves whisper old secrets To the wandering morning breeze, And shadows dr