By Humaira
In the heart of the Jade Forest, where ancient willows weep,
Whispers of love and tragedy in the bamboo shadows creep.
Martial artists dance beneath the moon’s pale glow,
Each step a silent echo of stories untold.
A warrior’s heart, bound by honor’s chain,
Fought with the grace of a crane in the rain.
His love, a lotus in the midst of the storm,
Bloomed with the purity of dawn's first warm.
But the winds of fate, cruel and unkind,
Tore their souls apart, left nothing behind.
In a battle where no blade could defend,
Their love was the sword that could not bend.
The earth remembers the blood that was spilled,
The tears that fell as the night was stilled.
Yet in the quiet, where spirits reside,
Their devotion lives on, side by side.
Beneath the stars, where the phoenixes soar,
And dragons sleep, guarding forgotten lore,
Their spirits dance in a realm unseen,
A world of mystery, where love is queen.
In the depth of the forest, where shadows play,
And the eagles cry at the break of day,
The ancient spirits hum a song so deep,
Of love, loss, and secrets they keep.
For in this land, where the past meets the now,
Every tree, every stone, keeps a vow.
A vow to remember, to never forget,
The tales of devotion that linger yet
By Humaira
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