The Misty Castle

The crumbling walks

and tottering walls

whisper the stories of bygone…

The gates relive the shrieks

of the maidens the princes took…

Floor echoes the laments

of farmers forced to give up

lands to build the majestic view…

The walls, washed since,

hold traces of blood

of labour forced to trade

shovel for spears

to fight the battles

they didn’t choose…

All to pacify kings

who couldn’t care less if

babies died of hunger…

The wind in the castle

passages quietly whispers

to those who’d close their eyes

to the view and just listen…

Photo by Cederic X on Unsplash