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.