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Widow’s Keep

“Come close, come near”
They catch my ear,
“We’ve something quite unique;
A place for those who long to lose
But know not what they seek.
There are no signs
Or charted lines
No maps to point or hands to guide,
A stranger site you’re yet to find,
Than that of Widow’s Keep.”
 
“Come see, come see”
Onward they lead,
“That doorway through the thick,
May look like not but oak and iron
But therein lies the trick.
Behind the mask
Of brick and glass
Sleeps something sour of ages past,
A cairn for things not yet to pass,
That house on Widow’s Keep.”
 
“Believe, believe”
They cry to me,
“The ground on which you tread,
Breathes deep the wounds you’d long forgot
And hungers left unfed.
Among the stones
And stranded bones
Lurk honeyed words for hungry crows,
A root to wrap and soon to grow,
The song of Widow’s Keep.”
 
“Turn back, turn back”
Their voices crack,
“Climb out that yawning grave,
When careless flies make flame their sight
There’s nothing that can save.
And with each step
You’ll soon forget
That what you seek’s not what you’ll get,
The bargains struck are lined with lead,
Out there on Widow’s Keep.”
 
Now hear me howl
Behind this cowl
Of rot and window pane,
From whence I tread this spider’s web
It’s steward I became.
Within this hearse
Both feast and thirst
Burn cold as buried lover’s words,
But much too late I came to learn
The truth of Widow’s Keep.

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