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Teen
Mag
Ghost Castle
The river flows into the marsh
Below the castle citadel
Quite rock hidden Œway
Amid weeping cypress trees
Ruins now of past glory
Rotting, moulding woods
Yet on a moonlit night
When the sky is covered
By a thin grey shroud
In the bogs beneath the keep
A distant rattling can be heard
Of armour clanging
Of horse charging
„Hoist the colours
Saracens are coming!‰
Was that the ancient battle cry
The castle in an azure glow
As the fog and mist unfolds
Enveloping it in is blanket
I can see fires burning on the battlements
Sentries keeping their watch
Walking back and forth
Eternal vigil holding fast
Pirates land on the shore
Flags wave again in the marsh
Sailors, soldiers die every night
Before the holy light of dawn
As the cock crows on the walls above
Spectres begin to vanish
One by one return they to their tomb
Waiting for the next frail
Light is rising o‚er the walls
Rays pierce through the holes
Battles fought, won or lost
In the end what was gained
A moulding rock in a swamp
Hidden by weeping cypress trees
- Ronnie Lamkin
- Italy
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