Castle of Thought
Cold stone bricks,
A Castle of thought,
Holding feelings of myself
A cold starving prisoner.
A frigid chill
Seeps through cracks,
Cold are the thoughts of man,
Freezing the dark center.
Depraved of light
under Depression’s rule
Darkness surrounds the cell.
Walls with no windows
A castle of thought
Which keeps the soul hidden
In the icy domain
Of the Baron Depression.
Then comes an invasion on the wall
Threatening the peace of pity
And its lord Depression.
A siege of poetry
And self esteem
Its champion: Love.
Worry the dwellings
Of the castle of thought.
Bombardments rock
my small dark cell
visions of being crushed
during the confusion of battle
Frightens my starving spirit.
A war of virtue
At odds since the beginning
oppose each other on the
Fields of forever,
Neither ready to surrender,
Armies willing to perish
For control over my human soul.
An internal battle
taking its toll
On Baron’s castle of thought.
Warriors of ideals
Wasted on bloody moors
Ghastly Scavengers flock
On black wings
To pick their bones clean.
The ravens are at the wall
Eating what remains of
Depression’s dark armies.
The sovereign leader of
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poem by Heath Harrington
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