Remeniscence
by Possum

This lake of old - My heart remembers still.
For in the sacred monast'ry of time
The bells I know, but only from the thrill
Of Oriental quests, would slowly chime
Reminding me of centuries ago.
Serenely ghosts come haunt me whilst I dream;
Solicit information from below.
And so I watch their ghastly vessel bream
The placid lake - My love of youthful years.
I stood upon the bridge where fate had slain
A thousand men and caused a thousand fears,
My soul consumed by everlasting pain.
	Anachronistic ghosts forever last,
	Yet in this way thet cannot change the past.