Gothic Castle, Reimagined
Stone remembers what voices forget,
Every arch a held breath of time.
Moonlight kneels on broken towers
Where prayers once climbed the dark.
Iron gates do not guard
They warn.
Roses bleed against the walls,
Roots gripping grief and glory alike.
Candles flicker like lost names,
Stained glass bruised with color and dusk.
The halls echo not with footsteps,
But with the weight of staying.
Here, crowns rust into relics,
Thrones soften beneath moss and dust.
Power faded, but not erased
It learned how to sleep.
This castle does not haunt.
It waits.
For hands that touch the stone gently,
For hearts unafraid of memory.
Reimagined not as a fortress,
But as a witness
To love, to loss,
And the quiet magic of enduring.
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