New Occidental Poetry

Approaching the Castle

Above the city,
nearest the clouds,
stands the castle—
a ghost still wearing its shroud.

Here once lived men of danger--
frightening to foe,
enemy of tyrants,
and friends to strangers.

Their religion was like the fog and mist,
vaporous and fleeting,
but indicating something eternal,
something that persists.

They fought with the Christians of the West
against the Turks,
against the Arabs,
all the while hiding in their eagle’s nest.

How can I, a modern, approach this castle?
Among their mountains
and among their rain,
I am nothing but their vassal.

A bended knee is not enough;
one must rekindle the fire,
pick up the sword,
and seek out the rough.

That is the only way to honor of the men of this place--
their deeds,
their honor,
and their grace.

- Benjamin Welton