In a calm glen where shadows creep,
A mystery lies where time rests.
Underneath the greenery, where murmurs grip,
A secret spot, a mystery spring.
The air is thick with old melody,
Reverberations of those who've been gone long.
The trees twist low, their branches sob,
Protecting the insider facts that they keep.
In this quietness, hearts might wander,
Tracking down comfort, viewing as home.
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