Timeworn
The large arched doorway, with nearly no support
Stood gallant in its sorry state
The ravages of time, though decaying, created an almost beauty
The open cracks gave way to light entering from the court
From the door to the majestic staircase there seemed to wait
A quiet and sad stillness
For years the grand entry was untouched
But the peeling paint and debris upon the floor could not desecrate
Kings and nobles had walked these halls and did bless
Many a soul who were found in their presence
No, the destruction wrought by forgetfulness and age
Would not destroy such grace, nor could it distress
5 years ago
1 comment:
Yay I'm in this poem (fourth line, eleventh word) ;)
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