Once upon a time, somewhere near a small sea,
on a hill, bordering a thicket surrounding an even smaller village,
there lay a mighty citadel.
Its walls were high,
capable of withstanding attacks coming from both land and sea -- and that it did, during the worst of times.
During the best of times, it had been part of Most Serene Republics, small states and Empires. It was a place of good tidings, quite literally a place of new ones -- a place of trade, but also defended by the men of old against invaders, a task which today's so-called men would deem herculean.
Now there remain only ruins,
a patch of grass yet green in the face of a bare November light
and a lonely cloud, casting its shade across the land.
[...] the way, methinks that the "TMSR" bit is somewhat redundant -- it's not like "meanwhile dead ex-TMSR work", or "TSIE work" is anywhere on the [...]