In the Ancient Castle (the Lost One)
She kneels upon the broken ground, the dust
of ages drifting in the silent air
so still and fragile, ghosts of stone and steel
still haunt these halls, these sunlit vaults of time
And tapestries still hang upon the walls,
faded, threadbare remnants, tattered silk
that crumbles at the touch of wind or breath,
pale shadows of a glory held then lost
This place is a cathedral of the dust,
though no god ever walked inside these walls
and only dead men call this land their own
Just dead men and one quiet, living girl
kneeling there beneath the open sky
where walls have fallen in and opened out,
a monument to time and to decay
She does not know what led her to this place,
what wordless call it was that drew her near
She cannot ask the shadows what they say
She cannot calm the drumbeat of her fear
And memory burns cold within her chest,
sharp fragments of a time she has not known,
visions of a life she never lived
the ghosts of days that claim her as their own
She slowly lifts her head and turns away,
steps forward once against the pull of time,
against the wind that shivers through her hair
and whispers tuneless music, bright and clear
She will not let the shadows take her now
She knows she must return the way she came
No place for her within this lake of time,
so still and placid, time for her must flow,
a river, not a pool, and still she knows
that life still calls beyond this broken hall
And so she turns and starts her journey home