in these woods
a leaf-flown path
betwixt bare-twigged trees
haunted paths end, leading to things unforeseen
this door hath been opened
by winds too rough;
steps unsure, steps inside
not sure what secrets therein lie
breathing quickens and instincts slow
to and fro, these mindless know:
these empty rooms and dusty floors
i know not of who's been before
winding staircases, opposing thoughts
my mind sees what it should not ought;
this emptiness, this architecture
engulfing me to be the lone protector
although not I know
whether this be house or mansion or castle,
I fear not curiosities continue, my friend.
For I hath awoken from such fantasies, this be sure
for 'tis a dream and nothing more.