Whispers of Eternity.

As the night grows silent, murmurs begin to grow.

The weaving of a dream taffeta starts.

Heavenly stars, silent observers of tears,

Resonating with the melody of years gone by.

The moon, a lone sentinel above,

A gentle exhalation, watching over shadows.

It bathes the peaceful earth in silver light.

We look for our own rebirth in its brightness.

Ancient trees have stories they desire to share from their secretive home in the deep forest.

The leaves rustle like ancient ghosts.

Softly singing of lost loves and wars of legend.

The roots entwine beneath the surface, preserving recollections of bygone eras.

Feel the untainted land's heartbeat.

A timeless beat that is certain and steady.

Wander across meadows filled with blooming wildflowers, their colors dancing against the encroaching darkness. Every leaf is a poetry, every stem a verse, every page in the book of nature holy.

Where the streams run at the margin of the river,

Memories of a history we will never understand.

Like whispers in the night, ripples disperse, each one bearing a secret spark.

A face marked with lines of anguish; hearts once wounded, now healed by grace.

However, tales of bravery can be found in those lines.

Life's beauty cannot be concealed.

Every day brings a fresh promise.

A blue-painted canvas with skies on it.

Hope emerges like a bird on its wings, using love's salve to heal wounds.

Thus, exude confidence and let your soul shine, for life is simply a passing dream.

Feel the pulse of eternity near in every breath and every sigh.



And once the last curtain rises, echoes of our existence in these corridors,

Recall this, our whispered song: We are all pieces of the historical tapestry.