In hallowed grounds where shadows weave, The ancient trees in silence grieve, Their roots entwined with tales of old, Whispers of secrets left untold. Sentinels of the resting place, With branches stretched to heaven's grace, They guard the souls in earth's embrace, A timeless vigil, steadfast pace. Through plague and storm, their leaves have shone, Purifying what lies unknown, A gateway to the worlds beyond, In darkened soil their roots respond. Immortal giants, wise and grand, Each ring a script in nature's hand, They stand as pillars through the years, Eternal keepers of our fears.