This one is raw and unedited. It's about the forest in the Columbia River Gorge, here in Oregon, USA, that has been all but burned away in the last three days. I simply needed to get it down before I lost the light. That said, I would love any corrections or critiques you might have, as it needs a lot of work.
I walked these halls in happier days,
With climbing emerald walls,
This home of mine with laughter filled,
And chattering down, the falls.
These rooms were filled with golden light,
Floors carpeted in green,
That caught the twisting shadows cast,
From Ancient swaying beams.
Our stony seats with careless cast,
Arranged by smiling brookes,
And the ceiling somewhere whispers —
Pages in ancient books.
This home of mine had stories, once,
Written in wood and stone,
A joyful secret always kept,
For family alone.
I’ll walk these halls again, some day,
Though my bones will then be old,
My memories of happier days,
I’ll have written down and sold.
This home of mine will laugh again,
And chatter in the falls.
The golden light on mossy floors,
And younger, greener walls.
But this home of mine is hollow, now,
Her mossy crown laid down.
These walls are dark and ashen now,
That once were tall and proud.
My children will not dance upon
Those golden, mossy floors.
These rivers in their endless run,
Now weep, and laugh no more.
Those stories now are burned away,
That I once used to know,
Those secrets now are stolen from
The ceiling laid so low.
I wonder why with foolish hands,
They’ve burned this house of mine.
With gleeful shouts they sent it off,
To bleed, and burn, and die.
What amusement could be worth the cost,
Of this home of mine?
I hope it was worth the laugher,
That killed this home of mine.
I’ll walk these halls again someday,
I hope in happier times.
For oh to rest my weary bones,
In this old home of mine.