There stands defiant before you
the cold stone castle keep.
The moss and lichen drying
the bitter tears it weeps.
Green and grey blend in between
the rocks so manfully hewn.
As north wind chases though its heart
playing a haunting tune.
And all around a shroud encased
the shadow nightfall brings.
It wraps its hands around this face,
the foot beneath its wings.
And standing in the long parched moat,
its coverage with rime,
a chill runs down the watcher’s back
as he slips back in time.