By Cameron Bray
Beneath a storm-gray sky and the shady green pines,
We walk through the woods and in the clearing see
Gimghoul Castle beyond the warning signs,
Which guard its secrets from trespassers like me.
Dark forces gather within those stacked stone walls,
Where Peter's Ghost lurks and the Order meets at midnight —
But much I'd prefer to wander the empty halls
Of your new home than to tell of fear and fright.
The cozy cottage sits silent on the street,
Its white wood walls brushed by the reddened earth —
And we disturb it with our trampling feet,
This historic home that shall feel its own rebirth.
Today I know what I shall cherish best:
A home with you to live, to die, to rest.