Whispers of Minthe

Whispering waters, shadows deep,

Echoes of a secret sleep.

A goddess' boast, a mortal's plight,

Lost in the dark, fading light.

Minthe by the river's bend,

Beauty bold, on them she’d depend.

Bragging high, a jealous queen,

Unseen chains, a silent scream.

Underneath the starlit gloom,

Fate blooms in shadowed rooms.

From grace to grounded seed,

Fate of the mint, in fervent need.

Rise from roots, embrace the pain,

Her story etched in fragrant rain.

Whispered legends, ancient and deep,

Of love lost in the eternal sleep.

Her name in every leaf, every trace,

A myth reborn in nature’s grace.

Turned to herb, a sacred rite,

Guardian of the underworld night.

Minthe’s spirit, gently breathe,

Through the night, beneath the wreath.

A tale of beauty, pride, and fate,

Forever in the herbatic state.