Beneath the silver moon’s gentle gleam,

A tranquil river whispers secrets deep.

Mountains stand as guardians in the night,

While stars above their silent vigils keep.

A lone boat drifts, its oars untouched by hands,

Guided by currents that the heavens know.

The breeze carries tales from distant lands,

Of blooming fields where timeless blossoms grow.

In this stillness, thoughts take flight and soar,

Beyond the confines of the waking mind.

Peace descends like dew on sleeping shore,

And in the heart, a solace we may find.

Yet dawn will come with hues of gold and rose,

To gently rouse the world from dreams profound—

But memory holds what darkness may enclose,

Where truth in quiet moments can be found.

Beneath the silver moon’s gentle gleam,

A tranquil river whispers secrets deep.

Mountains stand as guardians in the night,

While stars above their silent vigils keep.

A lone boat drifts, its oars untouched by hands,

Guided by currents that the heavens know.

The breeze carries tales from distant lands,

Of blooming fields where timeless blossoms grow.

In this stillness, thoughts take flight and soar,

Beyond the confines of the waking mind.

Peace descends like dew on sleeping shore,

And in the heart, a solace we may find.

Yet dawn will come with hues of gold and rose,

To gently rouse the world from dreams profound—

But memory holds what darkness may enclose,

Where truth in quiet moments can be found.