In the rolling meadow where the shadows play,
A fading lantern guides me on my way,
Through the twilight echoes that softly call,
I chase the whispers, where the shadows fall.
With a broken fiddle in my trembling hands,
I strum the songs of long-forgotten lands,
In midnight hollow, where the secrets hide,
I hear the distant echoes, of a love that died.
The trees stand silent, watching time unfold,
As the wandering breeze carries tales of old,
A whispered song floats through the evening air,
Of hearts once cherished, now beyond repair.
Where the starlight dances on the dew-kissed grass,
And the moonlight shimmers like a piece of glass,
I gather the remnants of what used to be,
In the rolling meadow, it’s just the wind and me.
So here I’ll linger, with my haunting tune,
Underneath the silence of the silver moon,
Though dreams may fade in the night’s embrace,
In the heart of the meadow, I have found my place.
As the echo wanes and the night grows old,
In whispered harmonies, the stories told,
I'll carry the memories, both tender and strong,
In the gentle embrace of my wandering song.
Folk
Rolling meadow, Fading lantern, Wandering breeze, Broken fiddle, Midnight hollow, Distant echoes, Whispered song
Folk
Rolling meadow, Fading lantern, Wandering breeze, Broken fiddle, Midnight hollow, Distant echoes, Whispered song