The Fortress
by lkmecham
Along forbidding
Walks doth sit a fortress
Reaching to the skies.
Climbing stony walls
Daunting ivy creeps and grasps
The fortress slowly.
Alee through the fog
Moaning stalks the ghostly air
Echoing, creaking.
Worn, hollow steps and
Remnants of once painted walls
Warn against entrance.
Quiet, forsaken
The fortress fixed in silence
Stands deathlike, still, hushed.
Past rain so cold left
Clammy, dank markings smelling
Still of damp decay.
Filling senses the
Formidable fortress stands
Chilling to the bone.
*This is an ethnographic haiku. Another poem I wrote for class.
2 comments:
Did you know, the name Leslie means "a gray fortress"? I think the poem perfectly describes me :)
ha! This does NOT describe you...."formidable, smelling of damp decay," etc. NOT YOU! lol
Now, I'll have to rewrite and describe a welcoming fortress in a lovely valley filled with daisies and love...or something like that. lol Something beautiful would describe you.
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