Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, A lonely traveler follows a stream. The pines whisper tales of ages past, Of friendships forged and shadows cast. He pauses where two pathways meet, Hearing echoes of ancient feet. A lantern glows in distant mist, A memory through time persists. The wind carries a forgotten song— Of battles lost and kingdoms gone. Yet stars above still weave their light, Guiding wanderers through the night. No need to rush or understand The mysteries of this land. Just wa...