The silver moon hangs o’er the tranquil bay, Where whispered breezes make the willows sway. A lonely boat drifts on the starlit tide, While memories of distant shores abide. An old fisherman sings a mournful tune, Beneath the constellations’ gentle swoon. His net lies empty, yet his heart holds deep The promises the ocean cannot keep. Two lovers once walked on this sandy shore, Their echoes lingering forevermore. The moon observes both joy and sorrow’s trace— A silent witness to the human rac...
