Sunday, February 12, 2017

EMPTY WALLS


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A grand house had once stood here.
Many disappeared in fear.
A dark past had given it fame.
End House had been its given name.

Now all that is left are rocks and mud.
At night I swear I can hear a thud.
Reminiscent of bodies falling down
To the empty dungeons beneath the town.

I miss the beauty of this place.
This destruction I cannot face.
The Dead might groan & moan.
But we’ll rebuild our home.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

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