Eternal Watchtowers

Upon the ancient hills, where time stands still, A city sleeps, its towers reaching high. Each stone a whisper, each shadow a chill, A silent sentinel guarding the sky. The steps ascend, a path of memory, Where echoes of the past still linger. Each curve, each line, a story to see, In the heart of the city, forever. The towers rise, a testament to time, Their steadfast gaze through centuries. They hold the secrets, the joys, the crime, A silent witness to history's rhyme. In their shadow, we find our own place, A moment to pause, to reflect, to embrace. The timeless beauty, the enduring grace, A reminder of what we cannot erase. For in these towers, we see ourselves, A part of the past, a part of the whole. They stand as guardians, they stand as shelves, Of dreams and hopes, of love and souls.