The Fountain Of Horrors Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The ghosts and shrouds
in the dilapidated fountain round.

No waters, no joys, no glories
but only dust that fell with
small stones.

and
whispering at night
knives giant of horror
turning round
and in the midst
a skeleton giant
rises
bones white as alabaster
and between his teeth
a glimmering saber
held
the giant skeleton.

rites and vision, one night.

and how more
in more nights
in the Fountain of Horrors!