Beneath the silver moon’s gentle glow,

Ancient pines whisper tales of long ago.

A wandering bard with a lute in hand,

Sings of lost kingdoms across the sand.

Through mists of time where memories dwell,

Echoes a forgotten emperor’s bell.

Crimson leaves dance in autumn’s crisp air,

Carrying dreams too fragile to bear.

By the jade river where lotus flowers bloom,

A brush dips ink to dispel all gloom.

On parchment scrolls, emotions unfold—

A timeless story forever told.