Related quotes: Holiest elder of Rehdrimer! We...

The Temple Falls

Holiest elder of Rehdrimer!
We invoke the wrath of the dead!
Our legions shall rise from the pits of the earth.
To mangle the emperor's head.
Invading our grounds with violent intent.
But we strike back with double the force.
Forbidding our worship? We forbid their breath!
Behind the black walls of the North!
Though their numbers increase, and their will gaining strength.
And they're pinning us to our own walls.
I see a soldier slip past me, straight into the ghastly.
And ominous Rehdrimer's Hall!
These ebony towers are only sustained.
By what lies in that hall of the grim.
Beyond that rising red mist, a lost being exists!
A statue, a figure of Him!
The soldier unmoved by the stare, that of doom!
From the effigy centering the hall.
Unsheathing his sword, blessings all to his Lord.
His mistake shall be fatal to all.
Rehdrimer's head with a thud, hit the floor.
But that isn't all that fell!
The floor, old and grey, turns to sand, falls away.
Into a starless cosmos of Hell.
The emperor's men, down that chasm, descend.
Along with my fellow cultists indeed!
Growing horrors! I cringe! Now aware of my end!
Barely hanging from blackness that feeds!
The walls and the towers now crumble.
A seldom chance for time to reclaim.
As the primitive temple falls.
Into it's lightless, cosmic grave...

poem by Aaron Lynn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

Rehdrimer's Influence

Obedient and fiendish.
Is the priest that chants the pages.
Hooded summoners of evil.
Ah, a seance for the ages.

We await the final verses.
With sheer terror in our chests.
But we're aware, yes, we expect!
Debauchery shall infest...

'Rehdrimer! Rehdrimer!
Arise with your hate!
Rehdrimer! Rehdrimer!
Bring man to his fate! '

The earth explodes, as do our hearts.
As that sickening form ascends.
Armless, legless, bleeding head.
Intending human's end.

Blood erupts from the entity's head.
Our coven fearfully beholds.
Fluids splash upon us all.
And seep into our souls.

And oh! That scream, that dreadful scream...
Mere words cannot describe.
No knight, no hero can withstand.
The cry of demonkind.

And as that voice pierces my mind.
Chaotic foreign groans.
I get a sudden urge.
Bringing hatred to my bones.

A cannibalistic hunger.
Rising in a timid heart.
The yearn for human flesh.
Tears my former soul apart.

The screaming stops and Rehdrimer grins.
At mortal horrors he has formed.
Crimson eyed and sharpened nails.
With lust for blood and gore.

Solace in putridity.
Beauty in the foulest stench.
Devouring the murdered.
So our hunger can be quenched.

poem by Aaron Lynn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Dust

Its 2am in town hall station
Black walls and sleeping drunks
Are bad companions
Ice is there
Fear is there
Everyone is nowhere theres too much of nothing
Take me away
It 9am in town hall station
Flashing faces and grey herds no comparison
So sorry
So straight
Everyone is nowhere theres too much of nothing
Take me away
Its 2 am...
(moginie/garrett/hirst)

song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Ideas For Walls

So many things in my head, Ive always had them before
No reason to be upset, theyre just ideas for walls
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing, demanding that the nightlife be called the right life
Like putting paint on my feet & walking sideways in rows
My walls could be so complete, complete with patterns of toes
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing the left side, right side, which is the right side
Now-ideas
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
A little m for the mirror, a double u for the wall
To make things perfectly clear, a great big h in the hall
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing, demanding that the nightlife be called the right life
Is everybody confused? (no) Im making no sense at all
You want a room with a view you need ideas for walls
Now Im standing inside, outside, which is the right side
Im standing inside, outside, outside, right side
Inside, outside, which is the right side
Now -- ideas
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas
Theyre just ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls
Ideas for walls

song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Walls

Walls of stone and walls of brick,
Some walls thin and some walls thick,
Walls so high and walls so low,
Walls to hide and walls to show.

Walls quite short and walls quite tall,
Some walls, last well, some walls fall,
Walls for comfort, walls of hate,
Walls for security, walls ornate.

Some as a barricade, some to support,
Walls of wood and walls of iron wrought,
Walls as a barrier, walls to enclose,
Some are to sit on, some to lean and doze.

Walls we build ourselves, these aren't good,
Walls for privacy, walls that have stood,
So many years through weather foul or fine,
Walls, that are yours, walls that are mine.

Brick by brick they are built to last,
Whether built now or in the past,
They shelter us from so many things,
And shield us from whatever this life brings.

poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Record

HE sleeps, his head upon his sword,
His soldier's cloak a shroud;
His church-yard is the open field,--
Three times it has been plough'd:

The first time that the wheat sprung up
'Twas black as if with blood,
The meanest beggar turn'd away
From the unholy food.

The third year, and the grain grew fair,
As it was wont to wave;
None would have thought that golden corn
Was growing on the grave.

His lot was but a peasant's lot,
His name a peasant's name,
Not his the place of death that turns
Into a place of fame.

He fell as other thousands do,
Trampled down where they fall,
While on a single name is heap'd
The glory gain'd by all.

Yet even he whose common grave
Lies in the open fields,
Died not without a thought of all
The joy that glory yields.

That small white church in his own land,
The lime trees almost hide,
Bears on the walls the names of those
Who for their country died.

His name is written on those walls,
His mother read it there,
With pride,--oh! no, there could not be
Pride in the widow's prayer.

And many a stranger who shall mark
That peasant roll of fame,
Will think on prouder ones, yet say
This was a hero's name.

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hiroshima

Oh! The mushroom cloud
Oppenhiemer takes solace
In my Bhagwad Gita and
Quotes Lord Krishna
I have become death
The destroyer of Universe

The Emperor when told -
The old wooden palace
Reduced to cinders- Asks
What about my old Elm tree
For a palace can be built in a month
It takes a hundred years for
An Elm to fully grow
We will surrender says the Emperor
Why - asks the Diet
I cannot see the slaughter of -
My people.

Young army hotheads-thinking
Emperor has been ill advised
Ask the General to follow -
The Code of the Japanese Soldier
And overthrow the Emperor and the Diet

Sayeth the General-
You talk of the Code of the Japanese Soldier
The Japanese Soldier has but one code -
'He always obeys his Emperor'.

And commits
Harakiri

poem by Satbir Bakshi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The House Of Dust: Part 02: 01: The round red sun heaves darkly out of the sea

The round red sun heaves darkly out of the sea.
The walls and towers are warmed and gleam.
Sounds go drowsily up from streets and wharves.
The city stirs like one that is half in dream.

And the mist flows up by dazzling walls and windows,
Where one by one we wake and rise.
We gaze at the pale grey lustrous sea a moment,
We rub the darkness from our eyes,

And face our thousand devious secret mornings . . .
And do not see how the pale mist, slowly ascending,
Shaped by the sun, shines like a white-robed dreamer
Compassionate over our towers bending.

There, like one who gazes into a crystal,
He broods upon our city with sombre eyes;
He sees our secret fears vaguely unfolding,
Sees cloudy symbols shape to rise.

Each gleaming point of light is like a seed
Dilating swiftly to coiling fires.
Each cloud becomes a rapidly dimming face,
Each hurrying face records its strange desires.

We descend our separate stairs toward the day,
Merge in the somnolent mass that fills the street,
Lift our eyes to the soft blue space of sky,
And walk by the well-known walls with accustomed feet.

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Soldier's Ghost

I bled for you - would you for me?

I blessed a skin in blazing fuel
Then took a bullet in a duel of
‘He or I to Die.'

I often question ‘Why? '
Do you?

My country was my life to give -
Would you for country cease to live?
Sinking in a mire of death,
You have no choice -
So while you're still alive,
Rejoice!

I cried in failure - did you care?
And as I waned, were you aware of
What I did -?
Fighting for my country while you hid
Behind your comfort back at home?

Still relaxed?
My wife and child are fading at the tomb.

Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier soldier war
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Beowulf (Episode 10)

THEN Hrothgar went with his hero-train,
defence-of-Scyldings, forth from hall;
fain would the war-lord Wealhtheow seek,
couch of his queen. The King-of-Glory
against this Grendel a guard had set,
so heroes heard, a hall-defender,
who warded the monarch and watched for the monster.
In truth, the Geats' prince gladly trusted
his mettle, his might, the mercy of God!
Cast off then his corselet of iron,
helmet from head; to his henchman gave, --
choicest of weapons, -- the well-chased sword,
bidding him guard the gear of battle.
Spake then his Vaunt the valiant man,
Beowulf Geat, ere the bed be sought: --
"Of force in fight no feebler I count me,
in grim war-deeds, than Grendel deems him.
Not with the sword, then, to sleep of death
his life will I give, though it lie in my power.
No skill is his to strike against me,
my shield to hew though he hardy be,
bold in battle; we both, this night,
shall spurn the sword, if he seek me here,
unweaponed, for war. Let wisest God,
sacred Lord, on which side soever
doom decree as he deemeth right."
Reclined then the chieftain, and cheek-pillows held
the head of the earl, while all about him
seamen hardy on hall-beds sank.
None of them thought that thence their steps
to the folk and fastness that fostered them,
to the land they loved, would lead them back!
Full well they wist that on warriors many
battle-death seized, in the banquet-hall,
of Danish clan. But comfort and help,
war-weal weaving, to Weder folk
the Master gave, that, by might of one,
over their enemy all prevailed,
by single strength. In sooth 'tis told
that highest God o'er human kind
hath wielded ever! -- Thro' wan night striding,
came the walker-in-shadow. Warriors slept
whose hest was to guard the gabled hall, --
all save one. 'Twas widely known
that against God's will the ghostly ravager
him could not hurl to haunts of darkness;
wakeful, ready, with warrior's wrath,
bold he bided the battle's issue.

Beowulf, -- the "one."

poem by Anonymous Olde English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Dead Soldier

Where the sword has opened the way the man will follow

'Look! they came, the triumphant army!
Over yon hill see their weapons peeping!'
Still I spoke not but my wheel sent turning,
I closed my eyes for my heart was weeping,
My heart was weeping for a dead soldier.
Who is he who looks towards me?
''Tis no man but a gay flag flying.'
Red was his mouth and his white brow thoughtful,
Blue his eyes—how my soul is crying,
My soul is crying for a dead soldier.
'Kneel ye down, lest your eyes should dare them,
Kneel ye down and your beads be saying.'
'Lord, on their heads Thy wrath deliver,'
This is the prayer that my lips are praying,
My heart is praying for a dead soldier.

'Best cheer the path of the men victorious,
For he is dead and his blade lies broken,
His march is far where no aid can follow,
And for his people he left no token,
He left no token, the dead soldier.'
The way of the sword a man can follow,
See the young child with his gold hair gleaming.
When falls the oak must the acorn perish?
He lifts the blade and his eyes are dreaming,
He dreams the dream of the dead soldier.

poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Between Walls Between Walls

walls around us
always walls around us
morning till noon
till night walls always walls between
us i try to inser some words
of consolation between us
all walls rain walls between us
there is no word for us
for it
we, it, we, us, there is nothing
between us
air, between, us, air, air, air,
between us, still walls, walls,
speak, speak
why, why are these walls still walls
between us

i guess, you are dead, then
cogito, eureka,
will i be a happy man then?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Fuse

Its coming from so far away
Its hard to say for sure
Whether what I hear is music or the wind
Through an open door
Theres a fire high in the empty sky
Where the sound meets the shore
Theres a long distance loneliness
Rolling out over the desert floor
And the years that I spent lost in the mystery
Fall away leaving only the sound of the drum
Like a part of me
It speaks to the heart of me
Forget what life used to be
You are what you choose to be
Its whatever it is you see
That life will become
Whatever it is you might think you have
You have nothing to lose
Through every dead and living thing
Time runs like a fuse
And the fuse is burning
And the earth is turning
Though the years give way to uncertainty
And the fear of living for nothing strangles the will
Theres a part of me
That speaks to the heart of me
Though sometimes its hard to see
Its never far from me
Alive in eternity
That nothing can kill
Oh lord
Are there really people starving still?
Look out beyond the walls of babylon
How long will their needs go unfilled
I want to say right now Im going to be around
Im going to be around
When the walls and towers are crumbling
When the towers are tumbling down
And I will tune my spirit to the gentle sound
I want to hear the sound
Of the waters lapping on a higher ground
Of the children laughing

song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Robbing the Tomb

The year was bad, the crops were burnt,
The dragon turned his back,
The River Wei was almost dry
The earth was brown, and cracked,
The peasant army, risen up
Destroyed the House of Chin,
Set fire to all their palaces,
Their army turned and ran.

But we were left with nothing since
The death of Chin Shi Huang,
That first and greatest Emperor
Who'd ruled across the land,
He lay within his tomb up there
Hid deep within Mount Li,
And left us all with nothing but
A distant memory.

So Wang and Tong, my neighbours
With both Zheng and Shao along,
Had thought about the riches that
Lay underneath the ground,
They'd murdered all the builders and
The architects, the slaves,
So no-one could reveal the plans
Of Chin Shi Huang-ti's grave.

The ruling class were weak, had fled,
We thought this was our chance,
Why shouldn't we be rich, we thought,
We'd fought with sword and lance,
We'd long defended Chin Shi Huang
So now we should be paid,
The riches of the tomb lay there
Down where his corpse was laid.

'You know the penalty for this, '
Said Shao, 'we'll lose our heads,
If anyone should get to hear
That we've disturbed the dead.'
'We're going to die soon anyway, '
Croaked Zheng, 'you'd rather starve?
I'd risk my head for just one ring...'
The rest of us just laughed.

'What if his ghost has roamed abroad
To rage and roar at us?
Down in that ghostly sepulchre
Where he was laid in trust? '
'No man survived to see beneath
Those workings that were done,
They buried all his concubines
And workmen, every one! '

'I'd face a thousand ghosts, ' said Tong,
'A ghost can't do you harm,
'I hope you're sure of that, ' said Wang,
Who blanched in his alarm.
'Of course they can't, we'll get to work
The moon is full tonight,
We'll tunnel down, lie low by day,
Work while the moon is bright! '

It took us just a week to find
The steps to take us in,
The air was musty, smelt of death
The death knell of the Chin.
Then Shao had lit a candle, and
Cried out, a note of fear,
We stood and stared agape at horses,
And each charioteer.

And lines of archers, infantry,
That glared us in the gloom,
A whole division of the Chin
Had filled that darkened room,
But soldiers, made of pottery,
They stood as if in death,
To wait for Chin Shi Huang to rise,
To take a mortal breath.

We made our way between the rows
An army from the past,
And every face was different there,
A grim, unsmiling mask,
There must have been a thousand, or
Ten thousand, who could tell,
The army of an Emperor to
Breach the gates of hell!

Eventually we found a way
To tunnel through the walls,
Some passages led out of there
Deep down into the halls,
Where concubines were lain, asleep,
The beauties of the land,
But when Shao touched a tender cheek
The flesh was yellow sand.

So down, and deeper down we went,
The tomb must lie below,
We had no thought for safety, we
Just wandered anyhow,
And then a twang had sounded, as
A bolt took cousin Zheng,
Straight through the skull, the crossbow
That he'd tripped, was meant for him.

He died before he hit the floor,
Then other bolts flew yet,
The traps for plunderers like us
The Emperor had set,
One took Shao, entered at the throat
And pinned him to the wall,
His eyes had glazed, and then he died,
He couldn't even fall.

That left just me and Tong and Wang,
To crawl along the floor,
We came to heavy cedar doors
We knew we'd found the core,
The pictographs said 'Don't come in,
Or you will feel the curse,
Of Emperor Chin Shi Huang, your sin
Will drive your pauper's hearse! '

Tong kicked the door in with his boot,
Then ducked, and fell instead,
A blade came snaking to the floor
And Tong had lost his head!
It rolled unknowing down a stair
And landed, staring up,
From diamonds, rubies, sapphires,
And gem encrusted cups.

The coffin was magnificent,
A massive copper sheath,
And round about, such artefacts
That gleamed, beyond belief,
Wang couldn't stop, he crawled right down
And over Tong's dead form,
I screamed a warning, turned and ran,
And cursed that I'd been born!

I never saw Wang Bin again,
I made my way outside,
I slunk back home and hid for weeks,
I'd lost face, and my pride!
As Wang went down those chamber steps
I just wished that I'd hid,
For as Wang reached the jewels, I saw
The coffin raise its lid!

15 January 2010

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Its Ok

Its ok
Love is only meant for some
Im the rock
The shoulder you can cry on
I keep the walls from falling down
I keep the walls from falling down
I keep the walls from falling down
Ill play it straight
While you laugh and drink and party all night long
Ill designate myself
To be the driver who takes you home
I keep the walls from falling down
I keep the walls from falling down
You can be pretty and tragic
Ill try to keep the walls from falling down
You can be beautiful and fabulous
Ill try to keep the walls from falling down
I cant reach the pain you feel
But Ill try to keep the walls from falling down
If you can hold on
Lose your fear
Ill try to keep the walls from falling down
Falling down
Falling down
Where is your saint
To let you know youre not alone
To bring you peace
Help me be your friend your confidante
And keep the walls from falling down
Keep the walls from falling down
Keep the walls from falling down

song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Brave Little Soldier

Im a brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must fight, I must win
Im a brave little soldier
Through hell and back again
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum, pum, pum
Ye though I am marching through the valley filled with fear
My steps are sure and sturdy and my aim is straight and clear
The enemy is stalking me just waiting for the kill
Like david slewed galiath
I will claim this battle field
Im a brave little soldier
I must do what I can
Im a brave little soldier
And I must take a stand
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Marching, marching onward
Searching out the light of truth
I did not start the war
But its a battle I cant lose
Faith will be my armor
And love my sword and shield
I must defeat the enemy
I will, I will, I will
A brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
A brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Brave, little soldier

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Mother’s Cry of Late

Where for art thou, soldier?
Out East? West? –
And when? –
What part your rabid history?
And why? –
What wrought your destiny? –
For whom
You’d wreak your enmity –
I crave your fate to pen!

What comprehension of the
Order? –
‘Listen up! you men!
Raze to ground the taken land!
See they die and e’er you’ll stand, for
Death is but a grain of sand –
The mighty triumph, medal grand!

Now go you well!
Amen! ’

What sight upon the bloody lie
Of war? – your doubtful fate.

‘Where for art thou, soldier? ’ –
Your mother’s cry of late.

soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Tiny Little Soldier Boys;

Tiny Little soldier boys
Standing in a row
One step, two step, three step GO
Take all his orders and do as he says
Tidy up your uniform,
Make up your beds

Tiny Little soldier boys
Do your part
Don’t ever think of what’s in your heart;
You do as they say
And you will obey
But why do you do this my dear?
It’s because it you live out of fear.

Tiny little soldier boys
Stand up for yourselves
You don’t need to live in this hell
There are many of you and only two of them,
I bet this wasn’t what they had planned.
You break down there walls and blow up there lies
And you wont even listen to their pitiful cries

But then tiny little soldier girl
You awake in your bed
I’m sorry to tell you,
It was all in you head
You stand on your own
No army behind you
You stand all alone
They’ll be coming to find you.

poem by Jessica Lowe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Irish Soldier

The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
To the battle--field should show his way;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though they call you slave,
And though you but help a bandit hand
Uncheck'd to kill in your native land.

The soldier thought on his chance of doom--
How the trampled sod might be his tomb--
How, in evening's dusk, his sightless stare
To the small pale stars might upward glare;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though you think of the grave--
Though it yawn so near you, black and chill,
Honor and courage man you still.

And o'er his solemn brow he made
The Christian sign, and humbly said--
``Your prayers, good saints, if I should fall;
And for mercy, O Lord, on you I call!''--
Irish soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight, although you crave
The prayers of the saints your own to aid,
And the sign of the cross on your brow have made.

The morning broke--the bugle blew--
The voice of command the soldier knew,
And stern and straight in the van he stood,
And shouting, he rush'd to the work of blood;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
Thousands lay round you, crimson'd and cold--
But over their bodies you still fought on,
Till down you sank as the day was won.

And the Irish soldier now hath come,
Worn, and wounded, and crippled, home,
The hated, and slander'd, and scorn'd of those
Who safely slept while he faced their foes;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
In your native land you now are told
'Twas traitor--blood on that field you lost,
For you call'd on the saints, and your brow you cross'd!

poem by John Banim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In A Soldier...You Will Find...

In a soldier...
Loyalty and strength you see.
In a soldier...
Discipline, bravery.
In a soldier...
A world that is free.
In a soldier..
Sacrifice, so the world can be free.
In a soldier...
No compromise.
In a soldier...
Courage in his eyes.
In a soldier...
A special bond.
In a soldier...
Iraq, Viet-Nam.
In a soldier...
Sad, drooped eyes.
In a soldier...
Pain, when a buddy dies.
In a soldier...
Terrible places.
In a soldier...
Tough, grim faces.
In a soldier...
Stories untold.
In a soldier...
Action makes him old.
In a soldier...
Dark, frightening nights.
In a soldier...
Missing his lovely wife.
In a soldier...
Memories of a decent life.
In a soldier...
Scars deep in the mind.
In a soldier...
An exploding mine.
In a soldier...
The thrill of leaving war.
In a soldier...
No more pains anymore.
In a soldier...
No more tears.
In a soldier...
Leaving war, after a long, trying year.

poem by Philip Lore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Castle of Lost in Time

The Castle that stood in the farmer's field
Was a grey and battered shrine,
As kids we'd clamber the battlements
And imagine a former time,
When Norman soldiers stood at the heights,
Looked down on the Saxon serfs,
Who paid their tax to the Baron there
When the Normans ruled the earth!

And I'd be Baron Fitzwulf up there,
While Craig would be Robin Hood,
Our histories would be twisted there,
We'd mix and match what we could.
A hundred years was a slip of time
To pray for my own soul's sake,
When I was Thomas A'Becket, and
He was Sir Francis Drake.

The walls were battered and falling down
Had been since the Cromwell siege,
When Charles had fled with his standard, said
No longer to be ‘My Liege! '
The cannon had ripped through the southern wall
Had brought the portcullis down,
And the Roundheads, ferried across the moat
Had slain every man they found!

But ivy clung to the stubborn stone,
And climbed right up to the tower,
Where knights once practised their courtly love
Grew the strangest sort of flower,
Its petals red in the morning sun
With a heart of gold within,
‘They'd pluck it up on their lances there, '
Said Craig, ‘for Ann Boleyn! '

Above our heads was a fireplace
Set high in the ancient wall,
The beams long gone where a floor belonged,
There'd once been a stately hall,
Where Dames had danced in their silken gowns
And knights had cast in their lots,
Had drawn up the Magna Carta there
For the shame of John the fox!

But Farmer Giles was a bitter man
And he'd chase us over the brook,
Whenever he showed in the Castle grounds,
No matter what time it took,
He even managed to fence it off
But we'd scale the fence with glee,
And play to our hearts content, with him
Away where he couldn't see!

One night, we carried our sleeping bags
And stole through the darkening night,
I was the Duke of Marlborough
And Craig was Sir Hugh De'Spight,
We made our way through the ruins, found
A nook, we could safely sleep,
‘We'll wait ‘til the morning light, ' I said,
‘Then we'll play the Lord of the Keep! '

We woke as the Moon beamed overhead
Peeked out through a glowering cloud,
I could hear the strains of a harpsichord
The murmured sounds of a crowd,
A man that looked like a villainous lord
Appeared, not saying a word,
We scrambled out of our sleeping bags
As he drew out a wicked sword!

Then Craig took off with a yell, and I
Flew over the slated floor,
We jumped down into a passageway
That hadn't been there before,
The walls were damp with an evil stain
And brands that flickered the way,
Along to the castle dungeons, filled
With chains, and a smell - Decay!

And there in a tiny cell we saw,
Most rivetting sight of all,
The skull of a grinning skeleton,
Chained fast to the dungeon wall,
The bones were covered in cobwebs
But he'd scrawled in dust on the floor,
‘Pray God to smite all mine enemies,
The Devil will take them all! '

We heard the clanking of chains along
The darkened passageway,
And like a shroud in a shimmering cloud
Was a soldier, dressed in grey,
His stare was that of a madman, crazed
The fires of hell in his eyes,
As he seized the haft of a burning brand
He looked like the Farmer, Giles!

I ran clean through the spectre, thought
That Craig was coming behind,
Cleared the end of the tunnel, leapt
Back up in a single bound,
I didn't stop for a backward glance
I ran with a sense of doom,
Away from the Castle of Lost in Time
To the safety of my room.

I never saw Craig, my friend again,
They scoured the countryside,
Ravaged the ancient Castle grounds,
Questioned me ‘til I cried!
They found him dead in the dungeon
Chained, and lying against the wall,
A piece of flint in a bloodied hand
That had scraped in a childish scrawl:

‘May the Devil smite him, through and through,
Mine enemy, Sir Giles FitzHugh! '

20 August,2012