*** Not one of my best poems I think, but I'll put it on here anyway. 

These halls of grey stone I walk,

My leather boots softly hitting the floor,

My cloak ripples around me,

And I hear sonata form.

I carry a spell book,

Bound by cover sworn,

Gold leaf engravings,

Silver chain danglings.

I walk these halls of grey stone,

As I turn away from the storm,

Marked columns quaver,

As the empire falls to sunder.