Eternal Vigil
Reflection
Beneath the weight of time, they stand,
Robed in crimson, silent and grand.
Their faces veiled, their hearts concealed,
A testament to what is revealed.
The stone whispers, the air is still,
Their presence a sacred chill.
Each figure a guardian of thought,
A timeless bond, unbroken, taught.
Their hands, clasped in prayer or rest,
Speak of devotion, of peace, of test.
The red of their robes, a flame,
Burns bright, yet never to blame.
In their gaze, the viewer finds,
A mirror of their own minds.
Are they watching, or are they seen?
In this stillness, the soul is keen.
The marble backdrop, a canvas wide,
Holds their story, a tale to bide.
Through the ages, they hold their ground,
A vigil eternal, profound.
For in their stillness, we find our own,
A reflection of what we have grown.
Their presence a call, a quiet plea,
To stand, to guard, to be free.