Journey the real place of pilgrimage, beware of the fake ones: A poem
A place of peace, where nature stands tall,
And sacred whispers gently call.
Water body with a cleansing grace,
Washing the soul, leaving no murky trace
Spiritual energy fills the air,
A gentle promise beyond compare.
Here holy beings are a graceful sight
Their presence felt as guiding light.
So pilgrims come, with hopeful tread,
To quiet minds and hearts being blessed.
To meditate and find their way,
To something greater, day by day.
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