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The Whispering Pines
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Aug 25
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. Through misty vales and forests deep, Where ancient secrets lie asleep, The pines recount in whispered sighs The journey of the fireflies. They speak of seasons come and gone, Of fragile dawns and dusk’s sweet song, While wisdom lingers in the breeze That dances through the rustling trees.
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