Castell y Gwynt

Castell y Gwynt
(Castle of the Winds)

From a fathomless fog
of ice-dragon's breath
the hilltop fortress climbs
to crown boulders fallen raggedly,
the petrified dead of some elemental
battle now forgot,
and challenge the mere living
to empty their worthless souls
into the bottomless cauldron
boiling far below
or be strong enough of heart to cross
this place of quiet menace -
sure and gentle enough of foot
to steal past legion nameless
wretched rock creatures
that rest here in cursed slumber.

For this is nature's long-broken barrow
where the wight knights patrol
the corpse-strewn cobbles between
perma-dusk and Hel, the place
to where, from where
all winds blow,
where Earth reaches up to clasp
the sky in granite-fingered
embrace so cold
it feels no reason,
grey with encumbering age,
silvered with stalactite rain,
purpled with ennobling distance -
wrapped in cloak of constant change,
a song-stilled heart forever stone
solid silent snare
for every passing spirit.