In the castle by the sea, where whispers drown in decay,
lurk shadows of forgotten song, woven in the fabric of night.
Below the howling winds, an echo stirs, a lament ne'er sung,
The tides pull back the curtain of time.
Upward we stretch, fingers burnt by the chill of moonlight,
touching fragments of memories, drifting in and out in restless pulse.
Ravens trill the dirge half-remembered, sung by tongue-less voices,
Between the stones, between the silence, between who once was.
Beneath the waves, a mirror of the past flickers, tremor-tales you can’t keep,
Scream-sigh of days unseen, in the glow of unkind stars.
Steps echo, echo—not the footfalls of today but the ones who remain in shadow,
Seek the forgotten hallways unfurled by half-mooned tides.
A door creaks with no breeze; an unseen hand trails a cold, mournful touch.
Besides, sits a memory, curled upon itself, holding the name of no one
A story, twisted by ivy round time’s ancient spine…
Gothic Revelations await beyond dust.
Were we spoken? Or did we weave ourselves into the silence,
A constellation of breaths under trembling beams of forgotten light?
Seekers of the room sans echo, hold dearly,
Ere the sunrise glimmers on whatever this was…
Or rather, where it leads next.