Colossal and Colonial stands that bloated aristocratic Mansion...
An abandoned and gloomy Red-brick Victorian, once substantial.
Composed it stood, even in solitary ruins;
A wretched reminder of Savage Time's Doing.
The crumbling, bleeding walls, standing like a ghostly silhouette;
Of previous existence and lost glory,
Now desolate, despondent and in debt.

The long abiding hallways that once reverberated with laughter,
Now laments of Purgatory, of looming disaster.
A Hundred years gone, since footsteps echoed within those halls, and yet...
still not quite empty;
Generations of the oldest residents have laced its walls with cobwebs-
Enticingly delicate, a pale silvery dusty.

Clinging to the shivering wall is an antique Oak Clock;
Once a witness to glorious days, every hour now stands to mock.
The stained glass high windows, stares like the eyes of a melancholy soul;
Like a beautiful, forgotten concubine, Time has taken its toll.

That Old House now just weeps in silence,
Discouraged with age and lonely battle in defiance;
Triggered by acquainted smells and memories galore,
Alas, It holds all that dear, that exists no more!

Tanaya Roy Choudhuri
26 th June 2020