Spectral Guardians

In twilight's hush, where marble columns stand, Four figures shrouded, in crimson robes expand, Their faces veiled, in mystic, white disguise, Gaze forth with lenses, that pierce the veil of surprise. Oranges held, like symbols of a hidden truth, Their stillness whispers secrets, of an ancient youth, In this grand hall, where shadows softly fall, They stand as sentinels, guarding it all. Their robes, a fiery cloak, that wraps around, Concealing identities, in a mystic mound, The fourth, apart, with hood drawn tight, Stands watchful, a silent, spectral knight. In this tableau, where mystery reigns, The figures embody, the essence of restrained pains, Their oranges, a metaphor, for life's simple delight, In the stillness, a profound, inner light.