Mists, like haunting shadows
Entwine intrusive tentacles around me
As the past comes to visit
Again
The door, was closed
Locked and the key discarded
Memories bound in lead
Cast into the ocean
To be forgotten
The road was lost
Before ever its journey could begin
It was forced into oblivion
And, it is too late now to return
In the billowing confusion
I see the exiled visage
My back against the icy stone
A countenance close; mocking me
Choosing now to arise from the ashes
The phoenix from the murky depths
Turning those mists to violence
Harvest soils cannot bear such germination
It cannot be
The circle of stones is incomplete
A history lost; buried deep in myth
It cannot show its identity ... now
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Castlerigg
Original Illustration
By Matthew James
