Out chasing kites and dragonets, loosing the track, jerking out of scrubs.
Getting clasped by the creepers of a tumbledown stone wall.
Shattered gargoyles on the ground. Their eyes staring up on their pebble-drooling
congeners and on moss grown sculptures.
Beheaded dismembered marble figures. Corroded disembowelled marble humans.
Marble mibs sprawling. Marble heads nuzzling. Marble genitals gaping and
heaving in the grass. Marble fig leaves eroding on the compost heap.
Friezes on the walls where grotesque granite creatures revel. Stone reptiles
strangling stone gryphons. Stone maggots consuming the struggling monsters.
Stealing through, you'd expect to find skeletons of the Sleeping's Beauty
wooers in the hedges and perhaps her spindle and the witch inside.
Inside Rooms without walls. Columns without ceilings to support. The capitals
shedding dead Acanthus leaves which descend in slow motion to become parts of the
rustling on the floor.
Doors leading nowhere. Stairs spiralling into open air. Formerly secret
passages now exposed, leading deeper into the woods.
In one of the rooms a pile of tiny bones and a pointed ML hat atop of a tiny
skull staring into the corner.
Strange it seems as this palace decayed so quickly as if someone
wanted to get rid of it.
As if the entire host of Seraphim gathered in zenith and wept it away with toxic tears.