In the arms of giants, where whispers reign,
Echoes of ages carved in stone,
Beneath the azure, their peaks remain,
Guardians of secrets, forever alone.

Cloaked in the mist of morning’s grace,
They rise above, stoic and grand,
A silent fortress in nature’s embrace,
Their ancient stories, a timeless brand.

Through valleys deep and rivers wide,
Their shadows stretch, a gentle guide,
In twilight hues, they softly bide,
The silent keepers of the countryside.

Under moonlit skies, they stand so tall,
A testament to time’s endless call,
In their presence, we feel so small,
Yet in their grandeur, we find our all.