A Castle Scene

a shadow drifts across the glass

reflecting not the image pass

a vaporĀ  mist be-stills a kiss

as voices play a whispered hiss

pale and cold the narrow wrist

the veins of blue align the fist

walls show rips of narrow slits

nails have torn the years to bits

spider silk creates a lace

that lays across an ashen face

piles of dust flow to the edge

tossed by heels under the ledge

candles drip on marble plates

that light the tall and rusted gates

a piercing cry of hollow shrill

erupts the silence of the still

the birds of dark fly circle round

never close to meet the ground

the darkened stones leak slimy drips

that echoed sounds of leather whips

torches glow the textured walls

ghosts scream out in mournful calls

Posted in Poetry

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