Fractured floorboards, splintered dreams, remnants of affinity misused. Tangled in deception's cold grip, a confidence that time diffused.
The doorway stands a hollow shell, its promise turned to rust.

Rebuild I will, with steady hand. Rebuild I will, on sturdier ground,
A fortress at my core. My domain, once breached and lost will rise from wreckage bold.
No trespassers on hallowed ground, their stories left untold.

With hammer's blow and measured pace, mending what once was mine. Each nail a vow, a whispered strength, a will nonetheless to shine.
Though shadows linger in the past, a future I define.
These hands will craft a world anew, where flames of purpose twine.

Rusted hinges creak. A mourning, musty groan.
A hollow echo in a house once known.
For laughter's chime & footsteps light n' free.
Now just a shell, a haunting memory

Sunlight struggles through dust laden panes.
Illuminating cobwebs, remnants of bygone rains
Each chipped, flaking wall a silent plea.
A yearning for the life that used to be.

I tead with reverence on creaking floorboards worn
Imagining the stories in this place forlorn
The faded paint, a canvas cracked n' dim
Holds whispers of love that used to be brim.

Slowly, tools in hand, I break the mournful spell
New life I bring, A future yet to dwell.
Hammer strikes meet chisel's tap.
A symphony of hope, dispelling sorrow's trap.

Ignored or words to adorn. May fade like soundless wind.
Invisible, lyrics to be hushed. "A Ghost Story"

Oh for this day I wait
to be nothing.
No more pondering tomorrow, going back to a blank slate
wiping the name only to be rusted.
The long awaited venture of not competing with yourself
Oh boy, I cannot wait for what life has in store.
Actually I take that back, I will race no more.

Dim light paints the gallery, a canvas of dust.
Where brown hues mask portairs, memories ******
Behind cracked frames, tapestry of loss.
Faded echoes stir, emotions at a toss.

With chains of past, I stand, a captive soul
Unable to relive, yet forced to stroll
Through halls of what was, a hollow, echoing space.
A silent question hangs etched upon my face:
"What can I create now that the past is gone?
Is there no spark, no flame to ignite the dawn?"

Ashes remain, where flames once brightly burned,
A yearning for colors vibrantly returned.
For life's battery can dim, its vibrancy wane,
But within this gallery, a new path I'll obtain.

No longer bound by the dust and the gray,
I'll step out towards the sun a brighter day.
This gallery holds the past, but the future is mine.
A canvas untouched with space for design.

Ahh, back to the drawing board, oh I forgot it's covered
Huh, no markers. I got to grab some from the store.
Guess I'll use the chalk, bored, my Lord.
What was it I was to write, I think had quite a lot
To draw from this dot and finish this plot.
Dotted-Lines to jotted and where...does...it...end?
Wait, where is the line I slowly penned.
Is this the lesson I intend?...Where is the the board?
I thought it was right here, not a question
Prepping for class to be in session....

Start of the week complete, yet many have tested me
To See if I pique, vex 'till I'm freaked.
Creeping up on me like I'm a beast waiting to wreak havoc.
They critique my meekness until I unleash the deepness
Bringing to my meanest, as they view me as weakness.
To say I'm rude but their ears are unready for the truth.
I was calm, leave me be was all you had to do.
All thought I would be humble and let it slip, but here's the twist
There's names written on my list...Try me, I insist!
Haha

My letter arrived from a hollow shell.
Words I had written stealing my joy, as my gaze fell
Into a well of despair so deep.
Monsters awoke from their silent sleep.
Locked away like a morbid zoo, each one a fragment of me.
Unwanted children, to foster they say.
Crafted from shadows, made to stay
Each one with their unique name.
Logic to guide my sight, dissect their presence
to pierce the night.
No longer specimens to remain defiled, these monsters are mine
to be reconciled.
Lines blurred like a tangled web,
where neglected whispers softly sob.
Children hidden in the dark, second to one.
Yearning for light of sunshine, a healing touch.
To the depths, I lower my hand to lead to a better land.
Fresh air to breathe, water to cleanse.
Love as the balm for what life suspends.
This journey is mine, with every tear to face my shadows
conquering my fear.
For in healing them, I find my own way.
Towards the dawn of a new day.