On this, the twenty-fourth day of NaPoWriMo, I opted for another triolet (ABaAabAB) – must be the fault of all these Gothic texts I’ve been thinking about in my not-so-spare time.
This House of Whispers
In this house of whispers born and raised
A gliding voice, I worship vastness
In this house where hollow smiles are praised
In this house of whispers born and raised
Where soundless, purple fires always blazed
I keep the books of hallowed fastness
In this house of whispers born and raised
A gliding voice, I worship vastness.
Encyclopaedia Vanitatum 