Withering walls with chipped paint,

Alone here I sit and wait.

Abandonment flooding like sealed doom,

As if enclosed inside a tomb,

Enraptures me with morbid haste;

Energy drained and lost in space.

A house once lively loses its touch,

Invites cobwebs, dust, and such.

Chimes of remembrance they may say,

Of a house that stood still on a warm summer’s day.

Nostalgia, bittersweet, still brings me to tears,

While reliving my own once glory years.

The house now a crumbling, desolate place,

Brings me warmth with its seemingly charming grace.