Majestically antiquated cannons stand guard
over the impressive structure,
The heavily clouded water stands eerily still,
daring all that pass by to fall in,
The towering walls loom protectively over all encased within them.
Cold, hazy fog falls over the fort and darkens the sky
with the souls of all who have passed,
Opaque clouds transform the sky into a seemingly endless gray mass,
Sunlight’s halfhearted attempts to part the clouds are but
ephemeral glimpses of a clear sky.
Rustling the trees, the wind whistles past my freezing ears,
Lazily dribbling around the fort,
the moat never stops its perpetual cycle
around and around,
The sound of soft footsteps on the thick grass
seems to echo off of the walls.
Do the souls that passed away here perpetually wander?
How many soldiers that came here never saw their families again?
Wonder what feelings coursed through the soldiers’ veins
as they marched into what may have been their last battle?
The towering walls of the structure encase me
within their protective grasp and provide
an unexplainable comfort
the way no other place can.
Protected
Protected
Protected