A gentle stream flows through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of forgotten times and tones. It winds through valleys, shaded by old trees, And carries secrets on the evening breeze. A traveler paused to hear its murmuring song, Of lovers’ vows and battles fierce and long. The water sparkled under moonlight’s gleam, As if it danced within a fleeting dream. Yet as the dawn approached with hues of gold, The brook’s soft stories slowly grew old. It merged with rivers, vast and deep and wide, W...
