“Gormenghast.
Withdrawn and ruinous it broods in umbra:
the immemorial masonry:
the towers, the tracts. Is all corroding?
No. Through an avenue of spires a zephyr floats; a bird whistles;
a freshet beats away from a choked river.
Deep in a fist of stone, a doll's hand wriggles,
warm rebellious on the frozen palm.
A shadow shifts its length. A spider stirs...
And darkness winds between the characters.
- Gormenghast”
~ Mervyn Peake
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