The reaper has claimed a home,
upon a lost city alone of stone.

Way deep down is his crest
All kind meet from worst to best,
Go to recieve final rest.

Castles and temples are big and filled with power, and weaponry of spirits, to make any man cowar.

Lifting what was unknown
Ruling under both skies.
As the still lake solemnly lies.

No signs from above.
From the men on waters, sending praying love.

You may find the torch in the hidden flow.
Where it travels to, nobody to know.
Moving the flowers and long forgotten shadowy bowers.

Gave in under the stars.
Still waters still lie.
Until the current and wind mend the swinging air.

In the castle, goes all around
The reaper looks enviously down.
The black hole and dark gapes give out screams that turn to waves.

But not the wealthy lie,
In each envious ones a diamond eye.
Off upon some a better glorious water to be.
Never have there been signs of being on waters less atrociously sever .

O! A mix in the winds,
Now there is movement
Maybe the castle tried to hide?
Causing a dull tide.
Maybe they fraily gave in
Current now causing a hue,
And the day is almost new.

There are no earth sounds or tones.
Just the evil emerging from their many thrones

© Ashlee Binger