sometimes at night there’s music
drifting from the wood
a dusty wedding dress
a room misunderstood
once a merry crowd
laughter in the halls
now the cobwebs dance
vermin through her crawls
she sits and watches time
creaks with the wind
things so slowly crumble
air so sweet has thinned
so fast the rolling years
dreams if she only could, but
sometimes at night there’s music
drifting from the wood