The Safari

The golden dust, the scent of coming rain, The rising sun on the vast and open plain. A canvas painted in ochre, green, and gold, A story ancient, and so bravely told. The engine hums, a low and patient sound, As the jeep goes searching for hallowed ground. A silhouette of giraffes, tall and serene, A living image on a wild and endless scene The mighty lions, a sun-soaked tawny pride, Hidden in the grasses where their instincts guide. A leopard's shadow, elusive and so rare, Sliding through the thicket with a quiet, watchful stare. The trumpeting echo of the elephant's call, As families wander, moving free and tall. A wildebeest stampede, a blur of motion swift, A thundering promise, a primal, moving gift. And when the twilight paints the sky anew, With fiery hues of crimson and deep blue, The campfire crackles, a low and steady glow, With jackals barking in the dark, and stars that grow. The stillness settles, vast, deep and wide, The wildness stirring, with nowhere left to hi...

The Dying Castle

 

The ivy's green, a slow and silent thief,

Has claimed the stones of glory and of grief.

The crenellated edges, sharp and high,

Are soft with moss beneath a weeping sky.

The mighty gate, where banners used to fly,

Now frames a vista where the seasons die.

The drawbridge rusts, a severed, useless arm,

No longer guarding from a world of harm.


The wind sings low through arrow-slitted cracks,

Recalling ghosts of long-forgotten attacks.

The grand banqueting hall, so vast and wide,

Has only dust and silent shade inside.

The carved and gilded windows, now shattered they are,

Allow the rain to wash the broken vow

Of endless rule, of power's endless boast,

And leave behind a melancholy ghost.


The spiral stair, a spine of solid stone,

Leads up nowhere, empty and alone.

The vaulted roof, where once a fire burned,

Is open now, for stars to be discerned.

A story told in whispers, slow and deep,

While generations sow and fall and sleep.

And in the quiet, where the lichens creep,

The ancient, stone-cold secrets it will keep.


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