The house at the end of the street
In a dilapidated condition, today
There has been perpetual winter
Surrounded by the woods
Nature reclaimed most of the part
Tentacles of roots gripping tight
Many memories must be there
Still breathing with anticipation
The old framed pictures
Lying there, wanting to narrate
The story untold
Everything seemed gray
Roof will someday cave in
Burying the last remnants
It will be a part of nature
The folklore of yesteryear
The walls still holding fort
In few years time
That will be gone too