In the heart of emerald shade, where shadows softly creep,
Lies Serenwilde, a forest vast, where ancient secrets sleep.
Beneath the canopy of green, where moonlight softly weaves,
The whispers of the ancients call through rustling autumn leaves.

The fae, they dance in twilight’s glow, with melodies of old,
Their voices weave the tales of yore, where nature’s truths unfold.
The roots that cradle ancient trees, entwine with spirits’ might,
A tapestry of life and lore, beneath Mother’s moonlight.

The primal forces stir and wake, in the depths of forest grand,
Where every thorn and shadowed glen bears nature’s ancient brand.
The Sowers dream of worlds reborn, where wildness takes its reign,
While Listeners heed the sacred calls that echo through the rain.

Yet in the realm where shadows play, and ancient powers loom,
The forest’s heart beats strong and true beneath the gaze of Mother Moon.
For Serenwilde’s spirit fierce is etched in roots and flame,
A realm where ancient spirits dwell, and nature’s wild remains.

So heed the call of Serenwilde, where nature’s pulse runs deep,
In the sacred glen where dreams are spun, and ancient spirits keep.
A land of fierce and wondrous grace, where freedom’s breath is wild,
In the heart of the eternal woods, the spirit of the wild.