Invoking echoes of long bygone days,
we stand witness to the muted hymns
of souls wrapped in quietude.
Silences like ancient tapestries
whispering stories of resilience.
Through armored stance and fields untread,
hearts dance consonance in hushed harmonies.
Such are the verses of valiant melodies,
stitched in the fabric of all wanderers,
sewn with the needle of searching.
Between sword and pen,
a dance that cycles unbroken,
the beating pulse of graceful war,
penetrating and gentle,
like tides upon forgotten shores.