Urban Excavation

Urban Excavation 9/7/2012

I grew up
In a haunted house
And now I whisper
From behind the wall.

I am a puff of smoke
Drifting across the hall
In a stream of freezing air
Passing through the walls
And sinking through the floor.

I may come or I may go
But either way
I don’t really care
Because enough is enough
And I don’t scare.

This house is about to fall
Because its been rotting for years
From the inside out
And the bottom to the top.

Caked with dust
And thick with cobwebs
Abandoned, empty,
Lonely, and dead.

A Victorian castle
Ravaged by time
Full of secrets
And deadly truth.

Nothing is as beautiful
Than beauty left in ruins
Beaten, and weathered,
Haunting, and glamorous.

Heavy with the past
Half remembered and lost
A monument to man’s barbarity
Shrouded in fog.

Full of hidden knowledge
And rife with danger
A scintillating mirage
Of the way we were.

As good a place as any
To wait for the call
Ready to answer the slaughter
Of countless sheep
Over the wall.

I have all the time in the world
Time enough to live
And time enough to wait
Just waiting for something to stir
Rise and awake.