there are no birds
only the wind
and the howl of wolves
beyond the silence
we are alone
there are no clouds
only the wind
confusion spins
the crag of Lady Hill
we are alone
there is no sun
only the wind burns
the air is thin
within these walls
we are alone
we build brick upon brick
and watch the flickering walls
waiting for the storm
the Tower stands alone
in this Border land
we dance upon the battlements and hope
The Purple Hermit 
Really like your poem, I also get the feeling of aloneness in the Highland winter
“Bolt and bar the shutter,
For the foul winds blow:
Our minds are at their best this night,
And I seem to know
That everything outside us is
Mad as the mist and snow”
WB Yeats
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Thanks Alastair. I absolutely love WB Yeats!
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Stark and forlorn, your majestic border lands, Nikita. It is good that they are waiting, because the storm is almost here. Fabulous matching artwork as well.
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Thanks Steve. Yes there is definitely an end of days vibe at the moment.
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