passing pilgrim The ancient dust that is me Seems closer to the surface Cooling in the pale light Of the ever dieing Sun The winds of change Now pick at the thin wall Flaking away the parapet Weakening it all Yet still dwell I A stranger here Alone Within these chambers As surly as this castle falls In disrepair and ruin Its dust to mingle with the wind I will move ever onward 011206 ... faint dream and emptiness is death hope and reality is poison 020321 what's it to you? who go blather from