In the heart of the ancient wood, silence weaves,
Where shadows dance with the dying leaves.
Whispers of the wind carry tales untold,
Of life’s gentle fade and nature’s fold.

The river sings a mournful tune,
Reflecting the pale, ghostly moon.
Beneath its depths, secrets lie,
Where the echoes of time softly die.

Mountains stand as solemn guards,
Witnessing the cycle of life’s regards.
Their peaks kiss the fleeting clouds,
While valleys host the eternal shrouds.

In this realm where life meets rest,
Nature cradles the weary breast.
Embrace the peace, the final breath,
In the harmony of nature and death.