Benjamin Posted September 22, 2012 Share Posted September 22, 2012 The spurting coals' mischievous yellow flames projected flickers from a well-used grate. And ceiling's vellum plane gave silent life to empty chairs; aroused suspicious eyes that blinked from ornate carvings on their backs. The wilting flowers were a gorgons head that writhed through catacombs of table legs; and tacit memorabilia: a horse with wings whose rider set the world to rights, all in this lurid magic lantern show. The omnipresent old grandfather clock reflected well, a heart that permeated outposts of the gloom. It hiccuped: whirred, then clicked, And with a power pre-ordained, its chimes rang out the quarter. Shattering the peace of all who dared usurp this space. It whirred and clicked again: then, task completed, lapsed to where the shadows danced their lives oblivious of tick-and-tock... Compliant slaves ruled by the fire's dying glow. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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