Wane of the Keeper

Weather wicked blows so cold
Upon the crumbling walls of old

Madness whispers through the cracks
Into the mind of poor old Jack

To and fro, the lantern swings
Where luster withers, shadows cling

Sanguine flickers the beacon light
Life’s blood stipples the gelid night

Darkness comes and swallows whole
The last of Jack’s immortal soul

(photo courtesy of https://www.tinyrobotcreative.com/)

Author: jongraylang

Novel Writer, Screenwriter, Filmmaker & occasionally an Actor. Handy with a Sword, Ukulele, and Skis. Author of Nun With a Gun: The Town with No Name, The Matilda, Twistin' Matilda, Black Matilda, and Secret Matilda. Writer of the upcoming Sci-Fi sequel, Waltzing Matilda. View all posts by jongraylang