Many tiny corridors
Hundreds of spiraling towers
All mostly dark
Omnipresent shadows, scared
Away by sporadic windows
Eternally standing, a marker
For mankind to fight over

Blood runs down the walls
Blood of men, women and children
Soldiers and casualties, victims and murderers
All united in a stream of blood
Telling a story
As it runs through the courtyard
Pooling in places
A cracked bed in others

The Fortress remains its own
A bastion unto its own nature, never
Bending to the will of any creature
Many have advanced, some even
To the rank of duke and duchess
Many just fools at court

Immortality remains to be taken