Paul Warren Poet Ballad

The Great Stone Hall of the Dead

In the dream I was there again 
Standing in front of the Great Stone Hall
Of the Dead Lost Souls of long ago
And again I was drawn to the huge oaken door
That led inside to its dark nightmare
Untold to the world as it turned by

I asked myself the same question
But again received no sane answer
For the Great Stone Hall had stood forever
And kept these answers close within itself
In its time that was perpetual and unhealed
When I knew I was not the chosen one.

© Paul Warren Poetry

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