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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
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Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 2:27 AM UTC
That Old Mansion
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
tanaya
Written by
F/Earth
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 2:27 AM UTC
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