A lonely willow stands by the lake, Its branches trembling with each breath they take. A traveler paused beneath its shade one night, And heard the leaves recount a tale of light. They spoke of moons that rose and seasons turned, Of love that bloomed and bridges slowly burned. A king who lost his crown to chase a dream, A painter capturing a silent stream. The wind carried the words across the years— A symphony of laughter, hope, and tears. The traveler left as dawn began to break, Still hear...
