Sigh of Ages
Long moan to the morning sun
shift and creak,
stone shifting to greet the day.
Moss creeping inch by inch,
slithering bit by bit
absorbing the stone.
Century by century
standing witness to time,
lives come and go.
If these walls could talk
stories of royalty and rouges,
feasts and famines.
Stone soaked in blood
moat filled with water and waste,
tapestries of past deeds.
Shades of past
haunting the halls,
trapped in timeless wails.
2/3/14
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