Still crash the waves
at Tintagal
‘gainst cold black shine
that spills moonlight
‘cross the sea
craven foam strays high
lands corpse-like on sill
goes past
one hundred
one thousand
ten thousand
years
Tintagal dark stands sharp
no lighthouse to the ships
no warning nigh
but a shrill sentinel
watching deep and uncaring
whose bones are housed
in those bleak halls
whose breath still echoes
off stone-white walls
Tintagal’s sharp tooth
spears sky
no heart dare beat
in sight of cragged spire
nor foot ever fall
near obsidian gate
save one lone resident
cursed to roam
no Fate’s thread to bind
but quiet walks the harvester
to what but home
pass the teeth
shadowed rider
on pale horse
and the halls groan forth
with soul’s weight
and the world’s gone
save one shadow cast
by dreadful Tintagal
and the wind will
howl howl howl
ceaseless lifeless lullaby
singing homage
to dreadful Tintagal
Harnessing Chaos 