Random Poetry
~ To the East, the sunlight glints in the early morning Upon the sea, like broken glass And to the West, are the hills adorning A mansion by the mountain pass Where now the thistle sways by the marigold Once lived a story that was never told But onto me, the spirits have bestowed The honor to let this legend unfold With a tale of when the river flowed It once was grand, now veiled in rust The gemstone crowns, now turned to dust And where hope would fly on eagle's wings Now lies the land where no bird sings. What once beheld a velvety chair Is now but scraps of fabric and flair. Should the walls collapse To the rocky ground, The hollowed pieces would make no sound. And if the seas were to rise while it sat, unaware, When they'd fall It would appear as though nothing had ever been there And back to the house, to the room, through the gate Or what had remained of it, not stolen by fate - Dust speckles the air by the windowsill Where the sunbeams stretch across the wooden floor And if you looked past the space that the tapestries fill, You'd find, hidden behind, an ancient door. The pages of books are browned and fragile And on the moth-bitten carpet, quietly lay A hound who's fur has grayed with age And who could remember a time that this creature was agile? (TBC) *Antique

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