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| by Angela T |
The
Sounding of the Bells
It was the sounding
of the bells,
A darkly sounding,
ringing against a foggy night,
A dreary hum of
whispering winds through the barren branches
The shadows on the
backdrop of a crisp autumn
Here the howls
broke through the rhythms of the silence
The clock on the
mantle struck one more tone,
And the spirits
began to waltz about the dusty room,
As if the
celebration of some commemorative event had never ended
Laughter rang
through hallowed halls long without the drum of footsteps,
A beating heart
grew heavy with this uneasy place,
But out in the
field a long lost soldier stood awaiting assistance for his wounds,
As if time enfolded
upon itself in some twisted ellisped vortex
A carriage without
a driver passes by the broken gates
A new arrival to
this haunted place,
A shrouded figure
emerging from within
Slowly creeps
toward the door, where you stand,
Fear, a distant
thought among your surprise,
But a friendly
smile meets your eye
A warm embrace
quiets your wandering mind,
And in a blink the
ghostly phantoms
Flicker away as if
they were never there,
It was the sounding
of the bells,
A parlor game of
trance,
That for a moment
you dwelled in the past,
Through this
glimpse on All Hallow’s Eve
You realize the
connection between the otherworld
And our own
existence perceived
We are of the same…
-ACK-
