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Windsoar Castles
by A. Paige White
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For the Windsoar troubadour
And for all the words so gone before
they etched some parchment with a rhyme
to flutter stretch to a higher clime
For those who brave my penchant prose
and those who know my being froze
at the voice of death by demon's might
Let soft flames sing, His candlelight
from where they dwell, I cannot see
in skin or bone or deeper in
it matters not when once set free
it matters not where they've been
for before I knew or scarce could tell
He knew my soul, He knew it well
His voice arose to save my soul
pomegranate savors alway His goal.
08/14/2007 Author's Note: in progress
Posted on 08/14/2007
Copyright © 2025 A. Paige White
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