DREAMS

Dreams are whispers of a boundless sky, Where weary hearts learn how to fly. They rise like dawn through shadows deep, A spark of hope in the arms of sleep. They paint the night in colors rare, A canvas alive beyond despair. Mountains to climb, oceans to roam, Dreams are the places we call home. They speak of futures yet untold, Of courage burning bright and bold. Through fleeting paths, they softly weave, A map of all we dare believe. But fragile they are, like morning dew, Fading fast