The Night That Never Was
In cold melancholy the spirit sings,
As angels toss their darkened wings,
Grotesques upon yon pillared manse,
Awaken for this gruesome dance,
Fountains spout their molten flames,
Whispering forgotten names,
With furtive glance does Time evade,
Memories to dust doth fade,
And moonbeams shine on frozen glass.
A hollow gong of rusty brass
Chiming from the tower stark,
Nestling in the unbidden dark,
Where songs of joy and songs of hope
Vanquish'd in some gruesome stroke,
Resound in halls 'twere never built,
As oak and ash do groan and wilt,
For naught is true but falsities:
Shall this night ever come to be?
Copyright © Ankush Chakrabarty | Year Posted 2012
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