Fortress Walls

Fortress Walls

Fortress Walls







This night the poet turns in

bed and wrestles with his

fears while shadows dance

like twisted marionettes

pulled by strings of insanity

in his room.


Alone and still his eyes squint

in poorly lit room and sweat

begins to bead on brow he

smells his fears.


While shadows cast on window

pane and mock him with disdain

for being a man of letters yet

cursed by his father’s name.


The raven perched outside his

window watches from a lonely

tree hollowed out by gnarled

time of long ago it gazes with

cracked beak and trembling

feathered breast.


This poets shame controls his

very soul while ghostly images

of hidden faces and sacred places

of evil family’s haunt behind

his fortress walls.


Moving from the bed his trembling

hands are searching in the dark

for fear of being touched by bony

fingers reaching out to pluck him

from his bed and still the rhythm

of his heart while howling winds

blow and batter window panes.


Guided by the stillness in this

room he plucks the feather quill

from its rest and begins to write

of boyhood dreams and weeps

awhile dripping on his page his

father’s shame and arrogance

while the courtyard jester plays

the fool.


He claims his place within the

walls this night as darkness brings

all ghost’s to life dancing in the

dim light watching as he pens

with bloodied quill a journal

entry of family haunted by the

past while terror lurks between

his fortress walls and screams

echo from hell


This man of letters once accepted

and delighted now hangs his head

in shame like a wilted rose pressed

between the pages of lost forever

journals ragged and yellowed with

time and covered in witch’s dust.


© Copyright Vincent Moore. All Rights Reserved

Leave a Reply