aniket22
Wellknown Ace
In hush of dawn where silence sings,
The mountains rise on ancient wings,
With silver crowns of snow and stone,
They whisper truths the winds have known.
Their shadows stretch like time grown tall,
Unmoved by storm, unmoved by all—
Yet in their heart, a gentle thread:
A river born where glaciers bled.
It dances down with gleaming grace,
A mirror of the sky’s embrace,
It carves the cliffs, it feeds the land,
A sculptor's touch, a healer’s hand.
Through forests dark and meadows wide,
It hums a tune the peaks can’t hide,
A song of life, of flow and flight,
That turns the cold to green and light.
The mountain stays, the river roams—
One is still, the other home.
Together, though their paths diverge,
They speak in echoes, soft and sure.
For even stone must bow to stream,
And rivers start from mountain dreams—
The two, a tale of strength and grace,
Entwined in Earth’s enduring face.
The mountains rise on ancient wings,
With silver crowns of snow and stone,
They whisper truths the winds have known.
Their shadows stretch like time grown tall,
Unmoved by storm, unmoved by all—
Yet in their heart, a gentle thread:
A river born where glaciers bled.
It dances down with gleaming grace,
A mirror of the sky’s embrace,
It carves the cliffs, it feeds the land,
A sculptor's touch, a healer’s hand.
Through forests dark and meadows wide,
It hums a tune the peaks can’t hide,
A song of life, of flow and flight,
That turns the cold to green and light.
The mountain stays, the river roams—
One is still, the other home.
Together, though their paths diverge,
They speak in echoes, soft and sure.
For even stone must bow to stream,
And rivers start from mountain dreams—
The two, a tale of strength and grace,
Entwined in Earth’s enduring face.
