Resurrection

Quietly, I shall leave the castle.

Steps, trembling on the stairs;

At the time before cuckoo wail, where shotgun triggers and whispers come to heel;

gale knitted front phylums and dilapidated wicker strike the window.

There were no tears fell when she left the tombstone of anonymous;

Trembled hands maintain the tattered fabricated owl on the willow,

Outcry, the owl, aroused up the billow:

“Farewell!” said the young widow.

When the rain cut down the hill, he was sitting and counting the skull.

Dreary forest at midnight, he listens to the surge of the affrighted.

To the devil he prays, illusionary smog hunting the prey.

His Corpse decomposed by the raven at starry starry night.

He will see the world in raptors' sight.R

“Revive!” repeat the knight.

In these still, quiet, dreadful midnight like these,

"Desperate! "

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