In the whispering winds of the ancient wood,
Where the trees stand tall in silent grace,
Man’s touch is both a curse and boon,
As nature bends but never breaks.
Rivers carved by nature’s hand,
Reflect the stars in their serene flow,
Yet man with bridges and dams grand,
Alters paths where waters go.
The mountains rise with majesty,
Their peaks a testament to time,
Man mines their treasures endlessly,
Seeking gold in earth’s deep chime.
In fields where flowers bloom and dance,
Man sows seeds of hope and care,
Together in a fragile balance,
Nature and man breathe the same air.