On mountains high, where clouds unfurl,
Melpaca grazes, gentle girl.
Woolen coat, the color snow,
Hides a heart where stories flow.
Eyes like pools, reflecting dawn,
Witnessing the world, ever reborn.
Hooves that tread on stardust dust,
Leave melodies behind, a whispered trust.
As Melpaca spins, with nimble feet,
The world around begins to meet.
Stars and moon, woven in thread,
Tales of constellations, softly spread.
Each fleece she shears, a tapestry,
Of ancient knowledge, wild and free.
Legends sung in moonlit beams,
Echoes of forgotten, whispered dreams.
But shadows loom, with hearts impure,
Seeking power, her magic to allure.
Will Melpaca’s song forever cease?
Or rise in defiance, bringing peace?
On mountain peaks, her music rings,
A battle cry, where hope still clings.
For Melpaca knows, with strength untold,
That stories spun, can conquer cold.
So let her sing, beneath the starry dome,
A melody of light, to find her home.
For in her song, the truth resides,
A world united, where beauty hides.