Poem

As night falls, the castle of my city sinks into silence. Its stones, soaked in centuries of memory, become whispers heard only in the darkness. Its walls stand proud, guardians of a time gone by, but in their shadows ghosts still walk. Perhaps soldiers, perhaps lovers, perhaps the very legends who once built it. The city below smolders, a sea of ​​lights that yearn for the sky. But the castle does not look. It stands alone, trapped between then and now. And when the wind blows, something whispers on the tops of the walls. It's not words, it's the echo of the night, that embraces the castle as if telling him he's not alone.

Artemis A.