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Walk down th stony path, to the castle, ahead. Throwing a darking shadow over you. Down, down, down. To the gates, look down the never ending tunnel, to the sunshine behind, stumble along the cobble path, let the darkness warp you up. Blind, never seeing what lies ahead. To the court yard that died centuries ago, broken and moldy, from years that flew by. Push past the weeds and stones, that were once so tamed. To the broken doors, and into the entrance hall. Your footsteps will echo, around the dusty place, echoing the past, were many a feet would once of tread daily. To the look around at the empty shell. So cold, so unchecked and no longer loved. Left to rot, in the darking woods. Fear has made this place, and hate will destroy it. Up the stairs, wait, footsteps behind you! You stop and turn and look in to the mass of cob webs and snow of dust. Nobody there, you the ghost of the past, along the corridor, walking on the aged wood, past the broken treasures, and ripped pictures, to the great hall, caked in years old dust, to the throne, still strong after years of no master, to creak of the wood, to the groan of the tress and the howl of the wind. Then to slamming of the door. Now trapped for ever in a place that just wants to be loved. were many a feet would of tred daily. To the look around at the empty shell. So cold, so unchecked and no longer loved. Left to rot, in the darking woods. Fear has made this place, and hate will destroy it. Up the staris, wait, footsteps behing you! You stop and trun and look in to the mass of cob webbs and snow of dust. Nobody there, you the ghost of the past, alond the corridor, waliking on the aged wood, past the broken ordeiments, and ripped pictures, to the great hall, caked in years old dust, to the throne, still strong after years of no master, to creak of the wood, to the groan of the tress and the howl of the wind. Then to slamming of the door. Now trapped for ever in a place that just wants to be loved. Lonelychild 09
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