In a land where shadows dance on walls,

Where the past and present blend and blur,

We walk on paths of ancient calls,

With the footprints of ghosts that stir.

Every breeze carries whispers old,

Tales of those who lived and died,

Stories of courage and hearts so bold,

Echoing where the spirits abide.

The trees hold secrets in their bark,

Their leaves tremble with unseen sighs,

In the night, the world goes dark,

Yet the starlit whispers never lie.

We tread softly on this sacred ground,

Aware of the lives that came before,

In their silence, we are found,

Connected by an unseen shore.

For here, in this land of memories deep,

The footprints of ghosts linger still,

A reminder of the souls we keep,

And the stories that time will never kill.