In the quiet of the mountain's pulse,
an unseen breath flutters through the cracks.
The ancient faces look on, unmoving,
while echoes of old paths dance in the air.
Granite sighs beneath the weight of stars,
and whispers soft tales of forgotten lands.
Where hands of the unseen sculpt,
the sighs become a hum, a tune of remembrance.
Do you hear the stones speak, traveler?
Their voices are worn and smooth, like river stones.
Yet, they ring clear in the silence, a melody of the earth's heart.