Beneath the Tower

Beneath the tower made of old stone and iron

Adorned in white marbling and brass ornaments

Laid there a soul weeping for all man kind to hear

A deep lamenting pain to howl straight through the night

The journey down had been so long ago the sound

Became a normal noise to hear in castle hall

Some call’d it wind or ghost of olden days deceas’d

Until the soul was all but silent in the deep

A dreamy passion full o’ foolish wants n’ ways

Was wandering the corridor and came across

A careful hidden step descending down below

To dark n’ dreary cells o’ days that have deceas’d

The foolish eyes attended each old sight around

Until the foolish feeble passion found the soul

And didn’t know enough to let her body lay

And nursed her old aching heart with innocence

Until she stood upon her own found strength again

To fill the air with merriment for all to hear

The men above began to hear the beautiful

And begg’d to know the source o’ sound in which it came

But as the door to depths below was stumbled on

No single one could find the place they put the pain

So burry not your aching soul in cellar hole

For she to howl her costly hurt by day n’ night

And if she lives upon the depth this very day

Remember how the mind above doth play afoul

Instead allow passion’s innocent fooling ways

To walk you down the winding hole to meet again