In the quiet dawn, they rise and gleam,
Mountains standing tall, like sentinels in a dream.
Whispers of the wind dance through the pines,
Tales of old etched in ancient lines.

Their snow-capped crowns kiss the endless sky,
Veils of mist like secrets drifting by.
Echoes of the past in every stone,
Guardians of the earth, forever alone.

Rivers carve their stories down the slopes,
Nature’s artistry in every fold and hope.
The sun paints shadows on their rugged face,
In their majesty, we find a sacred space.

As stars adorn the velvet night,
The mountains rest in tranquil light.
Silent whispers in the cool night air,
A timeless beauty, beyond compare.