November 27, 2016

House of Stone

Who sleeps so well

in this house of stone,

forever enclosed

by iron doors,

awaiting visitors

to enter rooms

steeped in unswept dust,

the wind their only

constant sound?

And who would stand

within these halls,

pondering names

on darkened walls,

wondering if he

will cease to fear,

at rest with those

he holds so dear,

to join them in waiting

for his very own,

who lingers on

by his new home,

hoping she, too,

might sleep here?