Wooden Sentinel

In the quiet embrace of shadows, a sentinel stands, A figure of wood, yet alive with purpose grand. Its form, a testament to hands that crafted with care, A warrior of earth, a guardian rare. The sword it holds, a symbol of strength and will, A silent promise to protect, to fulfill. Its eyes, though closed, see all that lies ahead, A beacon of courage, a soul unafraid. The room around it whispers tales of old, Of battles fought, of stories untold. The light that falls upon its form, so still, Illuminates the path where dreams begin to spill. Oh, viewer, see yourself in this wooden frame, A guardian of your own, a silent flame. For in each of us lies the power to stand, To wield the sword of will, to touch the land. Let this sentinel be a mirror to your soul, A reminder that strength is found in the whole. For in the quiet, in the still, in the wood, Lies the essence of courage, the heart understood.