The Old Mill Part I
Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 9:40 pm
An Old Mill stands still on a rocky hill
The slopes are steep, barren and lifeless
The stunted plants sway in the silence
The quiet griping of the Mill echoes in the wind
And fills our empty hearts with the memory of the spring
When the fumes of the burning wood made us hard to breath
And those who heard the screams still cry themselves to sleep
It was a beautiful day, May Day's parade, small children played
Including little Kate, sweet like a nightingale
Wore a plaid dress and had an auburn plait
She scampered in the forest with her paradelantern
And ate the fresh blueberries she just had gathered
She pushed her way through the rich, thick flora
Tore her dress but didn't mind, a true explorer
She rose on a hill that was covered with grass
And look what she found, a Mill with jagged jambs
The Mill had a slanting roof and broken windows
Walls covered with deeply implanted flowers
It looked so pretty that she opened the decayed door
Stepped in and saw that the floor was rotten to the core
But little Kate didn't mind, the Mill was so exiting
The mossy walls and dusty books with odd writing
She beamed until she looked up, then she screamed
When she saw the gray corpse hanging from the ceiling
She dropped the lantern and flames climbed up the walls
She ran across the room but fell trough the floorboards
Kate screamed for help, tried to get up but couldn't escape
At the same time, the Old Mill was turning into a furnace
She felt the heat on her face, the smoke made her cough
She kept screaming until her lungs were clogged
It hadn't rained for days, the forest outside the Mill was dry
The flames burnt it down and left a gray haze behind
It's a miracle that the Old Mill didn't burn down
But it burnt everything green that grew around it
And no one steps into the Mill these days, it's wicked
There's no verdant grass on the hill and it's surrounded by pickets
The slopes are steep, barren and lifeless
The stunted plants sway in the silence
The quiet griping of the Mill echoes in the wind
And fills our empty hearts with the memory of the spring
When the fumes of the burning wood made us hard to breath
And those who heard the screams still cry themselves to sleep
It was a beautiful day, May Day's parade, small children played
Including little Kate, sweet like a nightingale
Wore a plaid dress and had an auburn plait
She scampered in the forest with her paradelantern
And ate the fresh blueberries she just had gathered
She pushed her way through the rich, thick flora
Tore her dress but didn't mind, a true explorer
She rose on a hill that was covered with grass
And look what she found, a Mill with jagged jambs
The Mill had a slanting roof and broken windows
Walls covered with deeply implanted flowers
It looked so pretty that she opened the decayed door
Stepped in and saw that the floor was rotten to the core
But little Kate didn't mind, the Mill was so exiting
The mossy walls and dusty books with odd writing
She beamed until she looked up, then she screamed
When she saw the gray corpse hanging from the ceiling
She dropped the lantern and flames climbed up the walls
She ran across the room but fell trough the floorboards
Kate screamed for help, tried to get up but couldn't escape
At the same time, the Old Mill was turning into a furnace
She felt the heat on her face, the smoke made her cough
She kept screaming until her lungs were clogged
It hadn't rained for days, the forest outside the Mill was dry
The flames burnt it down and left a gray haze behind
It's a miracle that the Old Mill didn't burn down
But it burnt everything green that grew around it
And no one steps into the Mill these days, it's wicked
There's no verdant grass on the hill and it's surrounded by pickets