In the hush of twilight's tender gleam,
Where shadows meld with silken stream,
A river winds through a world untold,
Its waters cold, its secrets bold.

Silent witness to the darkened mire,
Where whispers fade, where souls retire,
Through tangled woods and valleys deep,
It guards the tales that shadows keep.

It’s seen the blood, the silent screams,
The broken hearts, the shattered dreams,
A witness to the cruel despise,
To unseen tears and muffled cries.

The river flows with steady grace,
A mirror to a world’s disgrace,
It holds the truth in silent waves,
A keeper of forgotten graves.

In moonlight’s glow, it softly sighs,
Bearing witness to the lies,
In every ripple, every bend,
It carries sorrows to the end.

Through dawns of hope and nights of pain,
The river flows, the same refrain,
A silent watch through ages long,
A mournful, timeless, endless song.

And as it winds through fields and stone,
The river knows, yet stands alone,
A silent witness, ever still,
To darkness wrought by human will.