Up on that marvelously luscious hill
there is a castle, standing grey and morose.
It’s made of granite and sad prose,
a ruin of forgotten folk tales
and trampled hearts, spare parts.
A dead wife and a broken, wet princess
inhabit, with their tragedy
these empty halls of memory.
The cracked, eroded ceilings
are touched, through gushes of wind
by that Gothic melody.
Yesterday, this castle of sadness
was attacked
by a wailing Banshee.
A blood moon, in its intensity
declared:
Shout your sadness
and you shall be free!
The yellow, rancid pages of manuscripts,
half-eaten away by rodents,
fall off the shelves
and speak about obsolete elves.
Melancholy and loss
come alive
and penetrate the moss.
The dead wife
with her sorrow
The defective princess
with her lingering hope of tomorrow,
emerged unscathed from the walls
to sing the sadness that befalls
the castle by the waterfalls.
Such imagery I love it
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Thank you!
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Fantastic visual imagery …
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Thanks!
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Such beautiful imagery….loved it 💟
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Thanks!
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I loved it ma’am! Thanks for sharing!
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Thanks. I am glad you liked it.
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Wow, AMAZING!! What beautiful wordsmithing!! I adore this poem.
Just wanted to drop by and give my thanks for following Celestial! It means so much to me. ❤
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Thank you for stopping by! I am really happy you read and liked my poem! I will definitely keep coming to your blog to see what’s new!
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