Upon the path where shadows softly creep,

Beneath the cloak of night’s celestial glow,

With caution tread, where ancient secrets sleep,

To yonder monastery, dark and low.

The stars, like watchful eyes in heaven’s dome,

Illuminate the way with silver light,

Yet in the air, a chill begins to roam,

For whispers tell of creatures of the night.

The ancient stones, with ivy overgrown,

Stand silent, shrouded in a mystic air,

As if they guard a truth long left unknown,

A tale of blood and darkness lurking there.

With every step, the shadows seem to dance,

And in their depths, a sense of fateful chance.