The Grand Ruin

A poem dedicated to all the ruins spread across Ireland.

The ruin sits upon a throne
A hill sturdy, patience prone
The moon crowns its sagging head
The high reaching spires torn to shreds

Once grand doorways falling apart
Hallways full of fading art
Things it's witnessed for so long
Written in its gentle song

Lords and Ladies long since passed
Celebrating in rooms so vast
Chandeliers sparkling grandly
Waiters staring blandly

Multi-colored skirts spinning
Sprouts of love beginning
Tailored suits so bold
A majestic sight to behold

The less noticed shades of gray
The unrevealed in the day
Gentle poisons and glinting knives
Treacherously ending lives

The craftily disguised
The cruelly devised
The disturbed ready to fulfill
All the powerplays that kill

The stone walls silently witnessing
Constantly, quietly assessing
Housing the innocent and ruthless
The honest and the truthless

Standing firm day to day
But slowly, slowly fading away
Strong in stature, wizened with time
Stories etched in every line

But now the walls are crumbling
The grandeur quietly tumbling
The hill its only friend
The only other to share its end

The moon a voiceless witness
To the sadness and the stillness

The once noble castle
Forgotten in our modern day hassle

The reticent structure
Completing the picture
Of a serene hill and a grand moon
Things that only time can entomb

Reviews

[Wolfwind]

Wonderfully rich with description and flows with a subtle breeze of time. I love the smooth feel to the words as they traverse the page in rhyme. I really liked how this piece is both elegant as well as dreamy. It takes a person there and lets them soak in the essence of the ancient stones.

Fantastic Ink!
Aaron

[Bridget Murphy]

Wow, I felt myself go to Ireland in this poem!:) defentately send me some more of your poems to read!!

[Kate Hunter]

well done azzy. ^_^ keep it up.