In the quiet twilight of life's endless stream,
Where memories linger like a haunting dream,
There, in the shadows of days gone by,
Resides the wisdom of a soul that's soared high.
Lines etched on skin, tales in every crease,
Each wrinkle a story, each mark a release,
Time's gentle caress, a bittersweet embrace,
A journey of moments, leaving nary a trace.
In the whispers of twilight, age finds its grace,
Embracing the past with a tender embrace,
For though limbs may weaken and vision grow dim,
The spirit within still burns with a flame undimmed.
In the tapestry of life, where youth meets its end,
Old age weaves a tale, with wisdom to lend,
For in the quiet stillness of the evening's hue,
There's beauty in being old, in all that we knew.