The Old Ruminator
Well-known member
In the heart of the hills, where shadows dance, Lies Cothelstone Cave, a forgotten expanse. Once a haven for seekers of ancient lore, Now abandoned, silent, forevermore.
Pickaxes rested, shovels laid to rest, Echoes of hopes that were once possessed. In the depths of the earth, a tale untold, Of dreams that withered, of stories cold.
A cavern concealed, secrets untold, Whispers of history, a mystery to unfold. The stalactites weep, their tears uncaught, As memories fade, and dreams are forgot.
A fellowship gathered, with passion ablaze, To uncover the past, in a primordial haze. Yet the stones stood silent, the earth unyielding, As if nature itself had a story concealing.
Through the rocky passages, they delved deep, Where shadows entwined, and dreams did seep. But time, relentless, played its part, As the cave echoed the beat of a distant heart.
Tools lay abandoned, hands no longer strive, As if the earth held secrets that must survive. Cothelstone Cave, a relic of desire, Now echoes only with a ghostly choir.
A symphony of regrets, a chorus of sighs, Whispers of questions that fade with goodbyes. Nature reclaims what seekers left behind, A silent testament to the curious mind.
Cothelstone, the cave of lost dreams, Where reality mingles with elusive streams. In the heart of the hills, it rests alone, A monument to endeavors, now overthrown.
Pickaxes rested, shovels laid to rest, Echoes of hopes that were once possessed. In the depths of the earth, a tale untold, Of dreams that withered, of stories cold.
A cavern concealed, secrets untold, Whispers of history, a mystery to unfold. The stalactites weep, their tears uncaught, As memories fade, and dreams are forgot.
A fellowship gathered, with passion ablaze, To uncover the past, in a primordial haze. Yet the stones stood silent, the earth unyielding, As if nature itself had a story concealing.
Through the rocky passages, they delved deep, Where shadows entwined, and dreams did seep. But time, relentless, played its part, As the cave echoed the beat of a distant heart.
Tools lay abandoned, hands no longer strive, As if the earth held secrets that must survive. Cothelstone Cave, a relic of desire, Now echoes only with a ghostly choir.
A symphony of regrets, a chorus of sighs, Whispers of questions that fade with goodbyes. Nature reclaims what seekers left behind, A silent testament to the curious mind.
Cothelstone, the cave of lost dreams, Where reality mingles with elusive streams. In the heart of the hills, it rests alone, A monument to endeavors, now overthrown.
