Echoes of the Past

At the jungle's verdant edge, weathered steles stand silent vigil, their surfaces etched with an indecipherable script, its letters strange and sharp. Moss veils their ancient faces,shrouding them in mystery, and no other living thing dares approach.
Their faces whisper a message or warning, an echo of a lost civilization echoing through the jungle's stillness. Their words are lost to time, their tale untold.
Written by an unknown hand, the steles tell a story that only they can understand. Do they chronicle the deeds of a people long lost, whose very name has been swallowed by the jungle? Or do they warn those who approach to stay away, lest they meet the same fate?