At the edge of the world
There lies a crumbled bastion
Abandoned to the slow decay
Of weather and time

A soft lilting melody
Floats through its courtyard
As pale flowers sway
Teased by whispering winds

Within those mossy walls
Do strange things yet stir
Begotten by a long forgotten magic
Older than the fortress itself

Every night among those flowers
Do old bones rise again
And dance to that curious music
Beneath the raven stars