The Iron Citadel of Ashtan

By: Duunrah Posted on: June 13, 2004

Noxtra draws her

tattered shroud over the rough edges

and the hollows that remain.

Only some leaves

and the tiny, hiding things,

breathing fast in the shadows,

flinch with the cold.

Here, the ghosts of betrayal

heavy with shame,

have long dragged their silent forms

aimless, forgotten,

far into the plains of dust.

Now, atop her broken Iron Crown,

flecked with blood and ash,

only the soldiers of wind,

and the soldiers of rain,

march along the battlements

calling to one another

in the ancient languages of anguish,

faint, faint to man's ear.