In the shadow of the moon’s hallowed light,
beneath the gnarled maples, whispers sing.
Echoes of lost time resonate softly,
haunting the winds whilst the stars blink.
The screens flicker, embers of the past,
showcasing specters dancing in the mist.
A requiem for solitude, wrapped in velvet air,
where every breath is a note in the symphony.
Can you hear the maple’s lament,
woven in the chorus of the night?
A tune forgotten, transcribed in silence
awaits your listening in this ghostly ballet.