The old granite house is painted with cold dreary rain, how the years have chipped away at the youth of it

But it still holds beauty, the gracious old ruin that still stands with a resilience, how it seems to speak faded wisdoms

As the rain sings its lullaby to this old home, the thunder chimes with a melody to accompany the rain

Though it seems that it is at its end, the fear of its demise never permeates, only a small sense of fractured joy seeps through to the soul