The dark water gleamed,

as the bright moon peaked its head,

out from the dark clouds.

An old iron gate,

stood next to the dark water,

bathed in the moonlight.

Long left forgotten,

abandoned by its makers,

standing all alone.

Vines covered its side,

concealing all of the rust,

from all of the years.

On its final breath,

unable to keep fighting,

like a sinking ship.

By: Ethan Twombly