The silver moon hangs in the midnight sky, Casting shadows where dreams quietly lie. A gentle breeze whispers through ancient trees, Carrying secrets on the evening breeze. Upon the lake, the ripples dance and gleam, Mirroring stars in a liquid dream. A lone swan glides with grace and silent pride, Across the water, nowhere left to hide. In distant hills, a temple bell does chime, Marking the passage of eternal time. Monks chant soft prayers that drift into the night, Guiding lost souls towar...
