Ilsa
The Butcher’s Castle
Black hearths
Long crumbled
Still stains
From flames
Remain
Unseen
Stones fall
To smother fertile soil
Day after day
Piles hundred
On thousands
Duchy of Brittany
Palace and prison
Where bones of
Master and slave
Rot incognizant
To class, country
Or creed
All beneath my feet
Monuments to monarchs
Long forgotten
Where now all are free to tread
Spires of massive towers
Loom to survey
Old rivers, fields
Kingdom's groves
Feathers, snakes, wildcats
Slowly drift and roam
Over dominions
Of moss covered stones
Beneath my feet
Lives of toil
Collapse into the fertile soil
Wind and rain!
Dismantle what remains
Wind and rain!
True rulers in this domain
Of monuments to monarchs
Long forgotten