All alone stands the house...bitter cold is the air, Still and reticent now are it's the crumbling walls, Who but knows the great tales...could it talk...it would share, Annecdotes tinged with bliss...fated years...and of falls, This decomposed mortar...a neglect ridden mansion, Now dust-lichen tapestries lace drape adorned, Where once hung sovereign riches across it's expansion, ...and finest art sculpture stood once and performed, Hushed-departed now songs...yarns of sadness and laughter, There be no heartfelt sonets for tributes now past, Hence cursed into silence here and everafter, Till the walls they do fall and they breathe of their last, Now sunlight tears holes through the brokendown rooftop, And gray rain it erodes the weak brick but to bare, Be there no shelter here for the briefest a rest-stop, And gone the great warmth in which once one could share, With fluttering pidgeons blessed as pittiful tenants, And black spiders pitch traps in the corners worn bare, Perhaps shy creatures crawl through fragmented remnants, Whilst the great kingdom crumbles...and nobody cares, This tumble-down stone and crumble-brick dwelling, Now smothered by undergrowth...leased out to rot, Tis a fast-fading testament to when once there was greatness, Now rests in the trees...it's existance forgot...
Reason for writing:
There is an old mansion near to where I live...I just sat and wrote this...I hope you like it
Birth sign: Aquarius
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