In the cold weave of night, the stars blink softly.
A veil of frost blankets the forgotten paths.
Whispers like fragile snowflakes drift away.
Listen, listen, the echoes fade to sleep.
Shadows dance among the trees, where light dares not tread.
The moon hums an ancient song, muted and deep.
Dreams wrapped in whispers are lost to the wind.
Come, linger in the glow of quiet solitude.