The gatekeeper
KråkeHe stands alone
There is a man
He stands like stone
Cruel words that make all dark tales
Written, and composed by tragedy
Truly, without flaw, all sung in wails
Sought by the revenants of dead bliss
Treasured by the poets lust for woe
Alas, each time,
Sealed with eternity's kiss
Burned deep by the touch of first frost
Withered from winters cold embrace
Reflections, echoes,
Of all that once was lost
By winds that on desperation pray
From storms that churn relentlessly
Emblazoned passion now swept away
It unfurls here,
Grim fates in the making
Fade and disappear,
Joy wrought only for breaking
Seasons they come no more
Reasons they matter no more
Every day, same shade of grey
Never to be freed
With a thousand stones to weigh one down
The key in front of iced-shut eyes
And no where to be found
Dulled by these endless pins
To numb the pain
No kind awakening,
No relief from this horrid domain
Life-song torn away, gone
Bereft by the damage done
Lain barren and cold, frigid and old
Never to be freed