Of Things Lost ...

An icy wind blows silent across an ancient court yard
Hidden, deep in the forgotten depths she lies
Sleeping now, awaiting Night's call.
And when it comes, she stirs, awaking, yet again
Eyes yet clouded open as she rises to sit
And gaze upon the ruins of ancient splendor,
And thoughts of a time, so long ago, when
She danced and sang among friends and family
And knew love and joy and could smile at each with ease.
And now a tear, falls slowly from ice blue eyes
For even now she remembers that which was lost.
She stands and lets her eyes wander, watching, listening
As those who dwell with her in the Night, sing her
Name and of her beauty.
Slowly now she walks through empty. cold halls
Filled now with but memories of love and joy and song.
Ahead the golden glow of Night's moon slips through cracks
And beckons to her and onward she glides ...
But stops for a moment, the look of sorrow upon her sweet lips,
To wonder and remember all the days gone by.
And now, above her, a hawk sings to her ... and she smiles
"Ah, my friend we are like one ... hunters in the night."
She turns and puts thoughts of a life lost behinds and
Slips into the night. And thoughts weave again in her soul

"Who will feed this hunger this night ...?"

And another blood red tear falls.

Chrsitopher Timid - 16 years, 1 month, 11 days ago