Nothing gold can truly last

In dawn's embrace where shadows play, Beneath the sky's first gentle ray, A whisper stirs in morning's light, A fleeting dance, both pure and bright. Upon the dew, a glimmer found, Like scattered dreams on hallowed ground, Gold hues that grace the waking hour, Yet tremble under time's vast power. For nothing gold can truly last, A truth ensconced within the past. The sun ascends, the mist departs, As fleeting beauty tugs at hearts. In heaven's glow and earth's soft sigh, The moments shine, then swiftly fly, An echo brief of nature's art, The golden days that leave their mark. Yet in the grasp of what must fade, A deeper wisdom is conveyed. For though the brilliance may decline, Its essence lingers, pure, divine. So let us cherish every gleam, The light, the mist, the whispered dream, For even as the gold may wane, Its spirit lingers, free from chain.