There it stands, against the brooding horizon, towering,
a cathedral of lost whispers. Bruised by secret desires.
Eclipsed light selvedge by murmurs, echoed deep – shadows rave
beneath the fluttering wings of sepulchral poesy.
Libretto of whispers obscure... shall they rise?
Perhaps nourishment for thoughts left unfed by the uncaring night.
Midnight chimes with ghostly solitude, conversing with Himself,
a cacophony of silences shriek into snug perimeters.
Virtue drowned under pluvial taint.
Go further into ubiquity,
where skeleton keys open gates—
Enter at your own peril...