Beyond the hills where moonlight sleeps,
A forest hums in whispered keeps.
Its trees are woven, dark and deep,
With secrets lost in tangled sleep.
The silver roots drink ancient sighs,
The branches stretch to painted skies.
The winds that curl through hollow bones
Sing songs of kings on fallen thrones.
A river glows with shifting light,
It carries echoes through the night.
Of lovers lost and tales untold,
Of whispered spells and buried gold.
The fireflies weave runes in air,
A guardian owl, with knowing stare,
Watches wanderers who dare to tread
Where time is but a silken thread.
For those who enter, heed this plea—
The Forest steals what once was free.
Your name will fade like mist at dawn,
And you will stay when time moves on.
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