Piranesi

The lamp hangs from a curling wrought
iron pole at the end of a mossy pier,
its flames cast no light on black ripples below.

A drawbridge baptises fleeting shadows,
shepherding masonry through
cobblestoned courtyards dripping disquiet.

Silence hangs a heavy quilt,
disturbed only by mouthess moans of bound
figures faintly visible in cold sulphurous light.

Massive doorknobs protrude from bestial heads.
Deep in a shadowy background stone
staircases twist away in inconceivable directions.

An arch linking fluted columns frames dark figures
dimly seen leaning across a balustrade;
they appear to be waiting for something.

Emptiness erupts from shadowed vaults,
in the mausoleum mirrors reflect disease,
the architect is a vacant chamber of pale regret.

Naked and bound to crumbling pylons,
lost in grim recesses of arches, doors and memory
he fades into architectural depths.

A chill mist slithers across flagstone,
shadows linger under a vast gateway but
finding no egress, forever faceless turn away.

(c) Tony foley 2010 (revised 2013)