The world is full of places that once held voiced,
Now only dust.
Windows stare empty,
Glass long shattered,
Yet you can almost hear the echo of laughter,
The hum of a life that used to exist there.

Chairs still wait at tables for meals never served.
Curtains hang like ghosts.
Breathing with the wind.
Paint peels like forgotten skin,
Walls hold secrets they will never tell.

Abandoned places are not empty.
They are heavy weighted with memories,
With footsteps that linger,
With stories cut short.

We call them ruins,
But they are more like mirrors
reminding us that nothing we built
lasts forever.
And everything we leave behind
becomes a monument
to how quickly we vanish.