Up, above the cliffs lie the remains,
broken walls and green grass punished for centuries
by an angry Irish Sea,
and by abandonment by those it was built to protect.
It tells a truth often missed by tourists,
of how the mightiest walls crumble
when no one cares enough to rebuild them
one stone at a time
each and every day.
About this poem.
A poem about relationships. About faith. About our own self-confidence. And of course, about castles.
No, you don’t have to pick one.
The pictures above was taken from the beaches below Tintagel Castle in Cornwall, England. The picture below was taken from inside the remains.