Beneath the silver crescent’s glow, Where silent rivers gently flow, A lonely pine on mountain high Whispers secrets to the sky. Two childhood friends by fate apart, One kept the memory in his heart, Through years of war and peace they grew, Yet ancient promises stayed true. At last they met where plum blossoms fall, By twilight’s curtain, faint and small, No words were needed, eyes alone Spoke of the journey each had known. The moon watched on—a timeless scene— How f...
