Somewhere in the rippling depths of the ancient moat, the whispers of forgotten watchmen echo faintly. Enthusiastically vigilant, they once patrolled, now only shadows of memories flicker in the twilight.
Oh, to feel the pulse of the moat,
storied waters cradling the silence of centuries.
A melancholic lull of surveillance, nostalgic in its solitude.
Remember the lanterns that danced upon the surface?
Lighting the paths of those who desired peace,
yet sought the thrill of the unseen.
Hovered the hawks above, inquisitive, detached... Reflecting perhaps, in their own aerial solitude?