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Description
By Kirkjufell’s shadowed height,
Where northern skies meet fading light,
A waterfall spills silver threads,
In whispered paths the mountain treads.
The guardian peak, proud and still,
Holds stories deep, as winters chill.
A beacon near the ocean’s edge,
A timeless tale, a solemn pledge.
Here Iceland’s heart beats raw and pure,
In Kirkjufell’s watch, wild and sure.
An artist’s gaze, a fleeting frame,
Yet the mountain stands, beyond a name.