In a bottle, captured essence so divine, Olibanum whispers, an ancient pine. Amber’s warmth in golden hues, Sandalwood trails, a scent that ensues.
A mist of meditation, in each spray, Silent stories of forests far away. The sacred resin, the amber glow, Wooden whispers, secrets they know.
A dance of aromas, subtly blend, In this bottle, time does bend. Olibanum’s spirit, amber’s embrace, Sandalwood’s touch, in perfumed grace.
On skin, it blooms, a sacred wood, A tranquil temple, in quietude stood. Meditation Mist, in this vial held tight, Brings forth serenity, day or night.
