On nights
When I dream in gray
That palace calls
Through shadows
Where feelings sit
Like portraits
Hung across its walls
Of stone –

Those lonely scenes
Obscured
Along blackened halls
Grown colder
From evening storms
Still hailing
Gentle crystals
Moonlight brings

Which traces peaks
Far off
Building distance viewed
From windows
Where each tower meets
Their heaven
Hiding secrets held
By clouds,

Every staircase
Climbing high
Chasing tiny cracks
Up turrets
While old mirrors stare
At phantoms
Framed with gold
Since ages past

Watching fear
Assemble death
Using broken glass
They’ve shattered
Piecing shards
For true reflections
Just to translate
What went wrong.

Such mosaics
Feature proof
How this manor rests
Near judgment
Atop platforms
Always looming
Between God
And frigid hell,

Waiting now
Though soon revealed
If our lonely minds
Should beckon
Finding fear more hope
Than reason
Behind doorways
Curtains mask,

Shielding corridors
Gone dark
Beneath mounting dust
Left floating
Amid nervous lives
Now sleeping
Carrying candles
Always snuffed.

• J. Pigno