Yonder lies the barren stone
well placed. The howling wind now
shuttered in, a captive stripped and bound.

The parapets and walk- walks rim the edges of the stone.
a deathly shrill of spirits still confess the ****** sin.

A  postern gate squeals soon and late
The children of the wind.The howling specter
whips about from battlement to Bailey.

Soon to fade and serenade and  finally to sleep.
The centuries bound  now place the crown and  shackles dug in deep.
Now take you heed the spirit's need to rest within the keep.