Erskine the Ancient Castle by Mathew Cranston

Erskine Wellington's best kept secret,

The sign hung on the old rusty gate.

Beyond the the gate,

A garden of darkness

The gate closed behind us,

The trees ached in the frosty pale wind,

An old news paper holding the secrets of the past,

An ancient archway smothered with vines,

An old basket ball court holding old paints,

Cracked walls covered with paintings,

Behind the vines an animals tomb,

We descend up the old stairs beholding an ancient castle,

Shattered windows and broken glass everywhere,

Down the old creepy road,

An old statue,  reaching out for eternity,

Behind the door the ancient spirit of the school,

"R.I.P Williams" were the words upon the ancient tomb,

As we departed the gate stood open.

Mathew Cranston