In the heart of the promised land, where emerald trees sway,

Resides the spirits, ancient, in the forest's lush fray.

They dance with the sunlight, tell whispers in the breeze,

They are the guardians of the wilderness, among the towering trees.

The spirits form, a shimmering silver mist, elegant and grand,

With eyes that hold the wisdom of the untouched land.

In every rustle of the leaves, in every stream's soft flow,

The guardians presence lingers, in the promise land vibrant show.

Singing songs of past life voices, in harmony and grace,

Guiding wanderers through the woods, each step a sacred pace.

For those who seek each spirit, with reverence and with care,

Find solace in its presence, in the sacred forest air.

In the promised land , with all one’s might,

A unfolding jewellery story, shimmering in silver light.

So let us honor the stories our forest spirits told,

For it guards the promised land, a timeless tale otherworldly old.

In your care and power, its legend will endure,

A testament to there stories, now for you to behold.