Empty beds, hallow grounds,strange bedfellows
Like a sleep on desert floors, ghost accompany
Over the canopy of the heavens
Hot the surface it holds in the day
To the coldest shiver at night , it brings
Empty beds, with no hang on, to rest head's stress
Vanished oasis to break burdens carried
Like empty castles it echoes singular voice
Where once kings, sat as masters over domain
While the silent provide illusion plague
By the shadows of yester years
Some say, they see ghost, quietly walking, haunting
Their presence through corridors left abandoned
The walls hold stories and voices of the young
Who once played hide and seek in hall ways
This kings bed, demands it own
To be complete by two on its lay, and not strange
Before it will rest the night with joy
Beautiful writing. I like how you describe the children playing in the halls. Something we seldom consider when thinking of history of any era.
ReplyDeletevivid imagery on those old days of innocence and playfulness.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing with poetry potluck.
Wonderful. It feels effortless just as great writing should be.
ReplyDeleteI think that we rarely think about how they used to sleep throughout history unless it is pointed out to us. I guess that if walls really coud talk then we would hear some most interesting stories. I really do enjoy history stories seen from the participants view where we are told how they felt at the time of which the story is written.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing such a cool poem with us for this weeks Theme Thursday "Beds" theme.
God bess.