In the quiet dawn where whispers dwell,
A promise spun like a silken spell.
With words like threads of golden hue,
We weave our hopes, both brave and true.

A child once clutched a mother’s vow,
“To chase the stars, I’ll show you how.”
In the glow of dreams, their laughter soared,
But shadows lingered, and hearts were bored.

As seasons danced and the world turned gray,
The promised light began to fray.
A broken word, like glass in sand,
Shattered the trust, slipped through their hand.

Yet in the cracks,...