The view changed often
as I made my way
from the base of the castle to the top;
the sun beat down on me with ancient fire
and my knees nearly forced me to stop
but each step took me higher than mountains,
and birds
flew beneath me as I crossed a bridge
that led to the door of the highest tower
and the darkness and mysteries within
engraved on its stone walls, a story was told
of a life that knew losses and pain;
it might have been your story; it might have been mine,
for it seemed to reveal everyone's name
the pale orange of sunset glowed through the window
giving eerie life to the stone;
enshrouded by darkness both threatening and comforting
I'd never been so alone
I stepped out onto the perch just as a banshee's wail
sent a chill running through my whole being;
it pierced the air from a far off place,
and I gazed out with awe at the scene:
There was fire in the hills as a crimson moon rose
and a dragon flew across the sky;
it was moving slow, as if it wanted me to know
that I could ride on its back if I tried
I might have died that day, or perhaps it was death that died;
releasing its hold on me
and in one perfect instant, I heard a song
and I'm still haunted by its melody
