Crumble-topped castle walls;
Silver-suited service beings,
Await, bated breath behind
The walls of stone and steel…
Near’ After than Here,
They prance the place,
Shadow-dance,
Enact the furious rites,
Turning human castle ‘to ghoulish-lair.
Eternal, nocturnal, is their life.
Their language - silence,
Their morbid delectation - You.
My first poem - enjoy!