In the forest’s quiet breath,
Lies the gentle touch of death;
Leaves that flutter, softly fall,
Echo lifeâs eternal call.
The river sings a somber tune,
Underneath the watching moon;
Carving paths through earth and stone,
Whispers of the ages known.
Mountains stand with silent grace,
Witness to the fleeting race;
Natureâs arms, wide and vast,
Cradle every shadow cast.
In the cycle, endless, vast,
Life and death are intertwined;
Nature’s beauty, fierce and kind,
In her embrace, we find our place.