Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lone wolf howls to stars above, Echoing tales of timeless love. Two ancient pines, with branches twined, Their roots in hidden depths entwined, Have stood through storms and winter’s blow, Whispering secrets soft and low. They speak of journeys long since passed, Of friendships forged in shadows cast, Of laughter carried on the breeze, And sorrows buried ‘neath the leaves. Now travelers rest beneath their boughs,...
