May 26, 2014
The ghosts, they haunt this castle I’ve built.
The towers shudder, their soft breath I’ve felt.
Their beautiful voices like sirens call,
As I try to hang on to this life in these walls.

But they call, they call, and I cannot resist
So I step out of the gate, and into the tempest.
I turn to the sound of cracking rock,
And see my walls tumbling, block after block.

For my ghosts now have won, and now that I’m out,
I see that destruction is what they’re about.
So I watch as my castle tumbles down,
Alone, I realize my ghosts can’t be found.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback