[Source[(https://depositphotos.com/photos/mujer-triste.html?qview=21614561)
We are waves playing with the river,
flashes of life in the small flight.
We pass through time like leaves in the wind,
with yearning chest, with burning soul,
we are broken mirrors in this moment,
and in each fragment, a lost story.
We long for eternity, a distant echo,
a serene refuge, a song without end,
but in this breeze, only human,
we harvest instants, like flowers, to the garden.
We know that today is a volatile luxury,
a bright spark that burns unchecked,
and though we are ephemeral, the dream is vital,
we paint in the air the colours of the sky.