The haunting of the forgotten realm,
Where time became eternal,
And dreams descended the haunted hill,
While echoes of a past bereft moved through the shadows left.
An ancient castle, old and worn,
With ivy-clad and weather-torn,
Stood silent underneath the moon’s cold eye,
Where spectres of old tales sighed.
Its walls were a shimmering expanse,
Holding memories that faded away,
Yet, lingered in the midnight air,
A haunting whisper of despair.
The wind howled through shattered glasses,
Carried tales of those who passed away,
Unseen by mortal eyes that wept,
And into restless slumber crept.
For in that realm, so lost in space and time,
Where darkness wove its silent rhyme,
The spirits of the past convened,
In shadows deep and ever keen.
Their mournful cries were but a silent breeze,
A chilling touch of ancient death,
That haunted the hallways and chambers,
Where time and shadow intertwined and loomed.
No mortal touch could ease the pain,
Nor light dispel the sombre chain,
Had been that place so dark and cold,
The ghosts of yesteryears unfolded.
Their voices echoed through the night,
Among spectral dances and phantom flights,
A tale of sorrow, loss and grim,
Of lives undone and spirits dim.
And those who wandered through the gloom,
They might have found themselves within the crypt of forsaken dreams,
Where whispers echoed, and shadows schemed,
Lost in a realm where nothing was as it seemed.
In that forsaken and haunted land,
Where time and darkness went side by side,
The ghosts of the past and fears combined,
In a kingdom where shadows interlaced.
Moved through the overwhelming darkness,
Their shapes, like whispers, drifted by,
Each step a ghostly echo of the past,
In a realm where memories never died.
They wove through the darkness with silent grace,
Leaving traces of their haunted embrace,
In a stillness where time seemed to sigh.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
