The silver moon hangs o’er the tranquil lake, Where willow branches dance and softly sway. A lonely boat drifts by for memory’s sake, As stars begin to fade at break of day. An old man sits upon the mossy stone, Recalling youth like petals on the stream. The whispered winds have carried all he’d known, Leaving but fragments of a distant dream. Yet in the hush where time and water meet, He finds the peace that years could not destroy— Where moon and heart in silent rhythm beat, And sorrow melt...

The silver moon hangs o’er the tranquil lake, Where willow branches dance and softly sway. A lonely boat drifts by for memory’s sake, As stars begin to fade at break of day. An old man sits upon the mossy stone, Recalling youth like petals on the stream. The whispered winds have carried all he’d known, Leaving but fragments of a distant dream. Yet in the hush where time and water meet, He finds the peace that years could not destroy— Where moon and heart in silent rhythm beat, And sorrow melt...