Nowhere to call a home
Never a place to call shelter
Just a temporary sanctuary
Gradually being washed away
By the advent of time
And relationships
On the side of crossroads,
You'd miss it if you weren't looking
Plants break free of its walls,
Tearing it into pieces,
Reducing it to ruins
That is where my love used to be
Where it used to exist
The bottom cellar is where my heart
Used to beat, scream out it's
Intentions for the world to hear
Where I once knew that love existed
Now, those same walls have fallen
Ruined, the stones are chipped
Holes mar the surface
And if you ever step inside,
You'd see a great big emptiness
A muskiness in the air
Speaking about what used to be
Cobwebs line the ceilings
The floors, unsteady and weak
A little bit of sunlight filters through
Providing enough light to make out figures
A sadness sets in, a weariness
Felt through your bones
Dampness causes the wood to decay
A drop falling every now and then
Startling with its loudness,
Makes a puddle on the floor
That steadily trickles down
To what lies below
A despondent house, called haunted
By people passing, who happen to see it.
No one goes in, no one steps in
It remains abandoned, cutting an
Intimidating, haunting figure where it
Stands unnoticed, beside the crossroads
Unmentionable, unnoticeable
If you didn't know it was there,
Your eyes would pass it by
Writing this was...intense for me...