20 lines
No EOL
807 B
Text
20 lines
No EOL
807 B
Text
In the realm where shadows dance and the sun casts its golden gaze,
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A valley lies, in its quiet solitude.
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The mountains rise, as silent sentinels,
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A foggy veil, where whispers dwell.
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Where man-made structures stand amidst the wild,
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As if a testament to human will.
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These rocks and ruins, speak of times now past,
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Yet in their presence, one can almost glimpse the future's vast.
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The sky above is a canvas painted with the morning's light,
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A spectacle where celestial bodies take flight.
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And as the day unfolds, each stone and cloud in harmony,
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Whispers of an age old, echoes through history.
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This place is but a whisper, a cryptic tale to tell,
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Where time stands still, yet the world moves on at its will.
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It is a liminal space, where past and future meet,
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A silent symphony, in which existence weaves. |