On the menhir where you crept, there stood a knight in sable clad.
Taken notice, your gaze has met, his ruffled lace both fierce and mad.

No words were spoken, might was there, the quiet weight of ancient lore,
a soldier bound by darkened flair, to guard this path and bar the door.

The bulk of secrets left untold, a sentinel in silence sworn.
Like relic statues worn by mold, his duty bound, not yet performed.