Inspiration By The Northern Rose

Separated by a century,

but they are both stuck in hell.

A death camp,
and a castle,
so different,
so iconic.

But irony is tragically lost on all.

They are my pride,
They are my joy.
The reason I pick up the pen,

The reason it crashes to the floor.

The bang on my door,
in the middle of the night,
to tell me to cry,
to laugh,
but mostly...
TO WRITE

By The Northern Rose