In a forest untouched by human stride,
A solitary tree on a hill does hide.
Behind, the October moon's muted gleam,
A girl approaches, lost in a silent dream.
As raindrops fall, the clock ticks on,
Washing away the pain, the battle won.
Alive but bound to impending fate,
The rain recedes, the hour growing late.
Her eyes, once a mirror of the azure sky,
Now pale, under the moon's watchful eye.
The October sun ascends the morning sky,
Casting light on a tale that never said goodbye.
Two teenagers traverse the mystical scene,
Briefly stopping, the tree a space between.
Unaware of the story that whispered by,
They move on, beneath the October sky.
Years later, a tale unfurls its root,
A story of the tree, the rain, and the mute.
October's symphony, a haunting refrain,
In a forest untrodden, where echoes remain.
