Within the heart of granite stone
A death bell tolls
A girded breastplate guards
Like unto the knights of old
No enemy shall breach these towering walls
Or tread the hallowed halls
Yet no castle 
Nor love
Can survive un-kept for long
Even now the ravens gather to pick at the withered soul
And from whence does salvation come?
For the very essence needed 
Is too oft rejected
Why then when love be offered
Doth the heart like a wild stag runneth away?
Should then love not be like unto a tiny bud?
That when nurtured will blossom into a perfect rose
And what tragedy indeed when in the twilight hour
A moment before the last petal falls
We reflect upon our golden age
And the errors of a misspent youth
 
 

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