In the quiet hush of the ancient grove,
Where the old oak trees tell tales of yore,
Ancestral whispers call and rove,
Through time’s vast corridors, forevermore.

Shadows dance in the flickering light,
Of lanterns hung from branches high,
Each glow a memory, burning bright,
As stars gleam in the evening sky.

Stones etched with runes so old,
Speak of courage, love, and lore,
Heritage in their lines bold,
A legacy we can’t ignore.

As we walk this path of history,
With reverence in our hearts and minds,
We carry forth our ancestry,
In every step, our heritage binds.