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