There are strangers in these halls , Misha Saxena
There are strangers in these halls
Knocked down narrowed walls
Swept in through time, collected into togetherness
They whisper at us
Thoughts that are evanescent as the wind blows
Memories collecting dust, brightened with daylight now
Some new, some old
A soldier cried out in the dark
A war cry to another, from a different age and in different colours
A heretic and a witch, arms locked as they roam
Across stairs and dungeons, carefully, in their trepid bones
And here we few
Gazing at relics a thousand years passed
Leaving our own essence in these walls
For another thousand years to last
Misha Saxena, 4th February 2024 / Location 1
A poem describing the memories imbedded in Colchester Castle, a monument that has, in some shape or form, been in use for over a thousand years. Many of these memories which had been forgotten have now resurfaced and can be experienced by us, due to the castle serving as a museum. It's as if the dust has been brushed off and we are relieving them once more.