The castle is built on a pile of skulls,
What greets the builder, the castle lord,
Skulls grow into a mountain his world,
The agony of skulls forms his castle.
The agony of skulls is a torturing past,
What fell into the well of oblivion.
Ghosts are swinging here from there,
Their torment carries the life of the castle lord.
The castle is built on a pile of skulls,
What is traversed by host of ghosts,
The agony of skulls is relieved by the heaven:
From them is built the Tower of Silence.
Castle under raising of the Tower of Silence:
The same fate awaits the castle lord,
And that he rather does not it behold,
It does not affect the Tower of Silence.
There is time: while it comes, the Tower sees out silent.
Written: 06 / 06. 2012., by J. W. Cassandra
Translated: 25 /08. 2022., by J. W. Cassandra
This poem is very chilling.
I agree with you. But it represents our lives as we live blind, augmenting the false power of men. And it also is a symbol of the ultimate power that makes us humans all equal: Mors Imperator that is Death Imperator. And it always is chilling, frightening. I devoted this poem for a soul-stirring writing.
And it is beautiful 🙂
Thank you. It’s my pleasure that you find it beautiful. Anyway, I requested to follow you on Instagram but I had no answer… Therefore, I can’t see your posts, unfortunately. Please, let me see them on it. Thank you.