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Screen Composition 1024 x 768
Screen Composition 1024 x 768
Chapter Five
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The castle steps of 80 score
And; darkness cast upon the walls…
With rain dripping into the gushing funnels,
Making spectacular waterfalls…
From the mountain prison
Towards the gorge,
One can see the lightning bolts
Cracking like bullwhips leaving scars,
Of white light in patterns, etched in barks,
The smell of fire lingers here,
Tell-tale smoke rises from base forests
The flames can be seen and clear.
The mountain paths weathered and carved;
Bridged and maintained with shapes of stone.
Gargoyles, stretch along its way,
Presenting; a presence of fear that stays…
Light flickers from a window space,
With shadow and eerie wanting embrace.
The large oak gate open and creeks
Like; in a bad movie of sound bite treats.
Alert to motion and a drop of a pin
The candles ignite inviting one in…
A cracking of wood from an open fire
Reflects on the silver and from Masters old oil…
Armour of warriors stand before displayed,
Upright and ready, to fight or engage…
The double staircase raised to height,
The lower to the dungeons and the crypts of the night.
A sound of a scream, a readiness of flight!
With curiosity; a candle in hand to give one light…
Descending to the dungeons, restricted breath
The steps slippery, treacherous and wet…
Candles ignite with a puff of smoke!
Rats scamper with a plod and a squeal heard below…
They jump from the levels of gutters and tunnels
The echo lingers, with distance and shallows…
A knock and a tap, to a cell one goes…
Observing the lighting trough a barred window exposed…
Behind, without noticing the door as it creaked,
Going in the opposite direction
Sealing with a loud, click!
On retreat; the expression of defeat…
With panic one scrambles for escape, excrete…
The stack of wooded boxes against the wall; lean…
Sharp pains; as they collapse and fall!
Edged in one’s flesh, are bones of those that are no more…
From the layer of corpses exposed, exhumed!
Bats flutter and fly as a blanket through…
Life’s energy slowly seeps away,
Though; the night one grows weary towards the day.
The spectres of warriors are portrayed in dream…
As one’s breath; labours to an extreme!
A candle of light; ends with smoke, extinguished!
Curiosity is left for another day and a relatives anguish!
And; darkness cast upon the walls…
With rain dripping into the gushing funnels,
Making spectacular waterfalls…
From the mountain prison
Towards the gorge,
One can see the lightning bolts
Cracking like bullwhips leaving scars,
Of white light in patterns, etched in barks,
The smell of fire lingers here,
Tell-tale smoke rises from base forests
The flames can be seen and clear.
The mountain paths weathered and carved;
Bridged and maintained with shapes of stone.
Gargoyles, stretch along its way,
Presenting; a presence of fear that stays…
Light flickers from a window space,
With shadow and eerie wanting embrace.
The large oak gate open and creeks
Like; in a bad movie of sound bite treats.
Alert to motion and a drop of a pin
The candles ignite inviting one in…
A cracking of wood from an open fire
Reflects on the silver and from Masters old oil…
Armour of warriors stand before displayed,
Upright and ready, to fight or engage…
The double staircase raised to height,
The lower to the dungeons and the crypts of the night.
A sound of a scream, a readiness of flight!
With curiosity; a candle in hand to give one light…
Descending to the dungeons, restricted breath
The steps slippery, treacherous and wet…
Candles ignite with a puff of smoke!
Rats scamper with a plod and a squeal heard below…
They jump from the levels of gutters and tunnels
The echo lingers, with distance and shallows…
A knock and a tap, to a cell one goes…
Observing the lighting trough a barred window exposed…
Behind, without noticing the door as it creaked,
Going in the opposite direction
Sealing with a loud, click!
On retreat; the expression of defeat…
With panic one scrambles for escape, excrete…
The stack of wooded boxes against the wall; lean…
Sharp pains; as they collapse and fall!
Edged in one’s flesh, are bones of those that are no more…
From the layer of corpses exposed, exhumed!
Bats flutter and fly as a blanket through…
Life’s energy slowly seeps away,
Though; the night one grows weary towards the day.
The spectres of warriors are portrayed in dream…
As one’s breath; labours to an extreme!
A candle of light; ends with smoke, extinguished!
Curiosity is left for another day and a relatives anguish!
Author: Nigel G Wilcox 06.02.14
No.69