I live in an old forgotten castle,
Engulfed in a vast blanket of shadow,
Where without reason, there rustles the leaves
Evermore by the cold clandestine wind.
In the ever-laughing embrace of time,
I try to speak, but long gone is my voice.
What is silence, but an ominous voice?
It's presence is known through out thine castle,
An echo growing lonely through out time,
And I, it's victim, for it stole my shadow!
Why do you bite me so, oh vengeful wind,
Because it was I that rustled the leaves?
Beneath the white, white snow I am the leaves!
Endless flakes falling, ignoring my voice.
Done away with and never to feel wind.
These once grand corridors of thine castle,
What have you done, oh malevolent time?
Soaked in ignorance and lovely shadow.
Do I yearn for the familiar shadow,
As Mother tree misses her little leaves?
In these woods I seek a faraway time,
Where there floats real sound and a friendly voice.
But in my dreams it spoke in thine castle!
Could it be? Was it real?... or just the wind.
What message do you convey, oh weary wind?
For how lost you must be in my shadow.
I feel around the dusty shelves of castle,
Searching through the dry and desolate leaves,
Harboring books filled with glorious voice!
For once I am thankful for endless time.
I've ran out of wax! Where have you gone, time?
The wick caught fire, but loving was the wind.
But did you not hear my hesitant voice,
As I walked slow through perilous shadow?
These mural portraits, showing strange green leaves.
But they've always been gray, silly castle!
Wind and leaves, I'm afraid you've been mislead,
Finding a shadow, never there, for so long a time!
Was there ever voice in thine castle?