Golden Meadow Under Distant Skies

• In a golden meadow under distant skies,  
  Where the fading horizon whispers lowly,  
  A wandering soul with a heart that flies,  
  Seeks the stories left unholy.  
  
  With a broken feather tucked behind my ear,  
  I chase the dreams that linger near,  
  By the banks of the midnight river’s flow,  
  Where the secrets of the night begin to grow.  
  
  And oh, how the distant echoes sing,  
  Of laughter shared and love once bold,  
  In shadows cast by the gentle spring,  
  Memories fade but never grow old.  
  
  I hear a whispered tune on the breeze,  
  Soft as a sigh, sweet as a prayer,  
  Each note dances with the sighing trees,  
  Filling the void with tender care.  
  
  So I’ll wander through the golden glades,  
  With the twilight wrapping ‘round like lace,  
  For in this realm where hope parades,  
  I find my spirit, find my place.  
  
  And when the stars begin to gleam,  
  In the heartbeat of the night so clear,  
  I’ll hold these moments like a dream,  
  For in the silence, I feel you near.  
  
  One last glance back at the fading light,  
  I’ll carry the echoes wherever I roam,  
  Under the canvas of the starlit night,  
  In my wandering heart, I’ll always find home.

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Folk

Golden meadow, Fading horizon, Wandering soul, Broken feather, Midnight river, Distant echoes, Whispered tune