Random Poetry
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~
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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