Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam,

Where silent waters gently stream,

A lonely pine whispers ancient dreams

Of mountain mist and starlit beams.

Two travelers met at twilight’s fall

Where crumbling stones and memories call.

One spoke of journeys long and deep,

The other promised secrets keep.

They shared the wine, they shared the bread,

Of distant lands and fortunes said.

When dawn arrived with golden light,

Both vanished into morning bright.

Now when the wind through branches sighs,

You hear their laughter, hear their cries.

The pines still guard what time erases—

These fleeting lives, these sacred spaces.

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam,

Where silent waters gently stream,

A lonely pine whispers ancient dreams

Of mountain mist and starlit beams.

Two travelers met at twilight’s fall

Where crumbling stones and memories call.

One spoke of journeys long and deep,

The other promised secrets keep.

They shared the wine, they shared the bread,

Of distant lands and fortunes said.

When dawn arrived with golden light,

Both vanished into morning bright.

Now when the wind through branches sighs,

You hear their laughter, hear their cries.

The pines still guard what time erases—

These fleeting lives, these sacred spaces.