Im Château Le Moulin, where the sun shines so bright,
History permeates every corner, like a powerful spring's light.
Today, a day like any other, yet exceptionally clear,
The Lüder family gathers, in the old château, so dear.

I, Carrie Lüder, wander through the echoing halls so wide,
Accompanied by the whispers of my ancestors who once here did reside.
The weight of the past, heavy as stone, does bear,
In my thoughts, my diary rests like a dark shrine there.

Walking over the nearby hills as dusk approaches, silence unfolds;
Le Moulin, our heritage, stands, a silent witness, steadfast and bold.
In this moment of reflection, I discern what truly binds:
Not stone, not walls, but the ties that carry us, intertwined.

The melancholy of the moment envelops me as I gaze
upon the fruit platter, a testament to peace, so precisely laid.
Each member carries their secret, a burden so heavy to bear—
the unwritten stories linger quietly, in the silence there.

Through the gardens, where floral splendor does not tame my storm within,
the family gathers, who shamefully hides the truth therein.
They come together, masks smiling upon each face—
an empire built on dark foundations, in gloomy light's embrace.

The day wanes in beauty, yet secrets simmer beneath the glow,
and I, Carrie Lüder, stand at the edge of a sea of woe.
Armed with the truth in my heart, faithful and bright,
I dive into the unknown, ready for what was once out of sight.