In ancient scrolls where time does sleep,
The tales of yore in silence keep.
Whispers of battles fought and lost,
In echoes of history, we count the cost.

Through crumbling walls and weathered stone,
Voices of heroes stand alone.
Their stories etched in time’s embrace,
A tapestry woven with grace.

Forgotten kings and queens of might,
In shadowed halls, they seek the light.
Their dreams and hopes now dust and lore,
Yet in their whispers, we explore.

From ashes of empires, new worlds rise,
Under the vast and endless skies.
The past a guide, the future a quest,
History’s whispers never rest.