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 on ridge stand tall, Whose roots entwine through stone and wall, They’ve witnessed wars and peace profound, Their whispered secrets haunt the ground. A traveler rests ‘neath boughs so deep, While forest guards its mysteries keep, The wind carries a faint refrain— Of joy remembered through the pain. At dawn the mist will rise and fad...
