"Transformation often hides in the silence of fog, waiting for the heart to brave the unknown."
Veiled in whispers of fog, a figure stands still,
Clad in shadows, seeking truth in the chill.
A gnarled tree beckons, twisted yet bold,
Its branches like fingers, secrets untold.
Twilight dances softly on the rugged stone,
Where lush greens emerge from the mist, overgrown.
In this tranquil embrace, reality blurs,
And the heart learns to listen as nature stirs.
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