Secrets of the Round Circle Seal

Life requires the keepers of it to be in that state which governs them to serve it best.

The room fills with sullen noises
and the rats squeak down the corridor
My thoughts empty upon the pages
and suddenly there is a rap tapping at my door

A glistening moon beam
Reflects from each candle
And there flickering wicks
As the whistling howls make their calls
Through the moans of
Bellowing hollows

A flickering candle each shadow it shapes
As it sits upon a window sill
Giving chance to soft frozen fluttering
Of each snowflake
To abandon frost and bitter cold
For a warm welcoming
Of a subtle and gentle place

Each to join and settle
One upon the other
Forming a seal
Of an iridescent glory
A palace of crystal grace

While my right thumb
Has splinter
With a wood
That festers with chase
I give page my feathered quill
To keep in silence
A solemn promise
The secrets of the round circle seal