A World of Sorrow and Splendor

In the cradle of dawn, where shadows fade,

A world awakens, both weary and grand,

The sun casts a golden, fleeting parade,

On a land stitched with sorrow's tender hand.

The rivers hum songs of a time long past,

Winding through valleys, both broken and bold,

They carry the whispers of love lost,

And dreams that have shattered but never grown old.

Mountains stand tall, with scars etched deep,

Guardians of a beauty fierce and while,

Yet in their peaks, where the heavens meet,

Lies the echo of tears from earth's lonely child.

The cities hum with a restless beat,

Steel and stone reach for skies unknown,

But in their heart, where the dark streets meet,

Are souls adrift, each one alone.

The flowers bloom in colors bright,

In fields where the forgotten rest,

Their petals dance in the soft moonlight,

A silent tribute to life's gentle jest.

The world is a canvas of joy and pain,

A masterpiece of dusk and dawn,

In every drop of the falling rain,

Is the story of a heart that's torn.

For in its sorrow lies its grace,

A fragile beauty, haunting and true,

This world, a bittersweet embrace,

Is sad, but oh, how beautiful too.