Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, A lonely stream began to dream. It whispered secrets to the stones, Of ancient kings and fallen thrones. A willow wept with leaves of green, And shared the tales it had seen— Of lovers’ vows in spring’s embrace, And winter’s frost on every face. The wind carried a mournful tune, Beneath the stars and midnight moon. It sang of journeys, far and wide, With nowhere left to run or hide. Yet in the dark, a light remained, A hope the universe sustained. For eve...
