Beneath the lantern’s gentle glow, they sleep,
In fields of jade, where silent ancestors weep.
The river’s song, a lullaby so deep,
Cradles the spirits in their eternal keep.

Whispered tales of dynasties long gone,
Echo through mountains where the phoenix has flown.
Incense drifts in the twilight’s gentle yawn,
Binding the past to the seeds we’ve sown.

Red paper lanterns dance in the breeze,
Guiding the lost through ancient trees.
Moonlight kisses the ancestral seas,
Where echoes of love bring hearts to ease.

Temples stand tall against the sky,
Guardians of memories that refuse to die.
In quiet reverence, we say goodbye,
Knowing their spirits will always be nigh.