Written 13 January 2026
Placed Second in Some Kind of Mystery Poetry Contrest of Nette Onclaud
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On wet walls where warm whispers dwell, in palace rooms where day dreams swell, A moonlight gleams on secrets old, In gilded stairs, the past unfolds. Who dwelt in the palace erewhile? Why dwellers left, where they exiled? The mansion waits, in tranquil grace, Mystery lies in this lone place.
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