Mystic Obelisk

In twilight's hush, where shadows play, A mystic figure stands, lost in the fray, Before the obelisk, a sentinel of old, With secrets kept, and stories yet untold. The numbers 211, a code divine, Emblazoned on its surface, a mystic sign, A language known to few, a mystery to share, A symbol of the unknown, beyond compare. The robed figure stands, in contemplative pose, Drinking in the wisdom, as the light bestows, A moment frozen, in timeless space, Where ancient knowledge meets the mystic's gaze. The atmosphere is thick, with an otherworldly mist, That veils the truth, and the mystic's wrist, Is guided by an unseen hand, to unlock the past, And unravel the enigma, that will forever last.