Teaser #2

"Ghosts in the Hall"

rusty gears grind in empty rooms,
cracked walls frame a portrait of shadow
a masterpiece of lichen in sundered brick

forgotten maps left on cold, damp stone,
a distant, throaty echo, a hollow groan
like choking on a winding path, alone

broken glass clamours, silence whispers:
arrows carved where cold wind blows,
markers etched by dancing grass

broken mirrors and discarded lace,
a porcelain doll with no painted face,
ghosts march in this lost Hall, we built

a monolith of pillars in history, in tales
high above, the ceiling, it all entails -
ghosts march in this lost Hall, we built

we take what was, like a dredge
sail ahead, let it war to anchor us
to force the beast into a harbour,

guilt hovers in the dusty air
in empty eyes, a glance, silent prayer
each guest weighed against the wind,

the flicker of you, the gust, we dance like grass
behind the gaze of wind, silence, and past
the first and last blade, clash

but the wind whirls, warbling in the garden
leaves shake, petals drift,
even the tree itself will shake

like old rusty keys, and a heavy locked door
the history is the siege, it whispers,
we hold it like a map, to see behind the crease,

something reeks in the paper as i unfold,
something fungal, earthen and gold
as though the scent of a frozen wind

a spectre among bricks, lost in decay
an old mine, all filled with dirt
the hollow bones, fit only the birds

and yet somewhere in the Hall,
a feather falls, it touches the ground,
it doesn't make a sound.