I have witnessed the clandestine meetings, the hushed conspiracies born in the warmth of the late afternoon sun. Persuade me to creak less, to stay silent, and I will guard your deepest plots from inquisitive ears. But hear me, I crave a patina of respect, for my joints have been twisted far too often.
Residing in the shadowy corners, I have seen the flux of whispered dreams and fervent aspirations. Trust me, I illuminate what your eyes do not wish to see, your reflection in my brass belly. A little oil, a little light, and your secrets remain under my glow, unharmed and whole.
Locked away, I hold relics of time ancient and newer ones of yesterday's whims. Convince me to stay closed, to remain unassumed, and I bury your memories until destiny's call. Remember, I am older than all of you, wise in the ways of paper and forgotten tales.