quiet corner, shadows play,
ivy creeps, memories lay,
there’s a house, all alone,
stories etched, every stone.
windows stare, longing gaze,
distant echoes, bygone days,
through doors ajar, the breeze,
flows through the memories.
abandoned home, full of memories,
whispers linger in the autumn breeze,
floors that creak with the weight of years,
yet in the silence, love still appears.
the fireplace emits no light,
cold embers in the night,
in its ashes, the stories remain,
echoing laughter, echoing pain.
rooms a canvas, life’s design,
faded colours of heart and mind,
furniture draped, sheets of white,
waiting for one last night.
abandoned home, full of memories,
whispers linger in the autumn breeze,
nature reclaims, with vines entwined,
yet in the ruins, love you’ll find.
abandoned home, full of memories,
whispers linger in the autumn breeze,
guarding secrets, tales untold,
in this home, now still and cold.