Hidden far from view, unless you know what's there
Lies a pretty little castle, or a woman with long hair.

One or the other sighs, a gentle little breeze
One or the other moves, her body works with ease.

Walls standing taller than mountains, built and left to last
But taller walls built where? Around the castle or her past?

Climbing up from ground are little ivy strings
And in the wind, when they move, one would think she sings.

All the windows have views of the stars all on chart
But which ones are windows? Her eyes or her heart?

The gardens are kept tidy, notice that no one else will see
But tidy as she keeps them, the garden still lives free.

Her chambers are her secret, for no living soul sees inside
Where once had been a mighty ruler, now lays only a weary bride.

You'll never ask for answers, and you'll never really know
For what seems like a castle now, was once a woman filled with woe.

~ The Lady of the Castle, mentioned in Cerce Darlton's* Book:
"Celestial Chaos and other reasons not to go to Greece"

~
*Whoop, otherwise known as me, the author
xx