At the edge of the silver waterfall, Under the cloak of night

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Adam`s Monar

At the edge of the silver waterfall, Under the cloak of night, A beautiful girl stands. Her graceful figure is clad in a short skirt the color of midnight sky, Shimmering like stardust. Long hair the color of molten copper flows to her hips, Playing shades in the moonlight. The sky above her is a boundless sea of ink, Studded with twinkling stars, Like splashes of silver paint. soft, An almost ghostly glow envelops the girl, Giving the impression, That she is woven from moonlight. Her face is lit by a joyful smile, In her eyes, sparks of joy dance. Ao redor dela, As if by the wave of a magic wand, Sparkling dust swirls - tiny particles of light, Fluttering in the air like winged elves. They create a shining cocoon around the girl, Turning her into the embodiment of night magic. Her skin is like opal, Emitting a soft pearly glow. Bare feet barely touch the damp stones, Covered in moss. Every movement is filled with the grace and lightness of a water nymph. The air is filled with the freshness of the waterfall and the scent of night orchids. The girl reaches out to the sky, And magical dust soars upwards, Creating a sparkling meteor shower. Her eyes, The color of a stormy sky, Reflecting starlight, And her lips are curved in a mysterious smile. She begins to dance at the edge of the waterfall, And her skirt flies up, Like splashes of water. hair fluttering, Creating a fiery halo around her head. In every movement of hers, one feels tenderness and unity with the forces of nature.

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