In this bungalow bathed with mud and leaves
Moss seeps through fissures in the walls
Sprawling vinery rips through paint beneath.
As my headdress rusts on the window sill
I glance to hush its last scorning glares
Hidden in this hammock, outlining my fears.
This sunken land fails evermore
How steady the brick counts its last dusk
How many more days to tend to them?
Old tapestry hanging above untucks,
Undone by the collapsing roof.
Leave me here a bloodied man, squashed by rock.
Limping, gushing, dripping in my demise.

Unnecessary mental stresses are meant to be thrown away like dilapidated shoes.

It was woven in times past now showing its
age. That which is but a shell ruptured as outside
lingers within its boundaries. No longer do the
footsteps of most enter upon its soiled floors.

An enduring piece least to time itself not holding on
to the years as unkind in its fractured form litters the
fallen carcass of wood and leather. But now upon this
deceased décor lingers beauty like fresh silken roses.

Hues of brunette like the nights sky glistening in the
essence of blonde radiance that shone on the features.
Both entwined in the possession of each others emotions.
Embraced in blissful acknowledgment of each others awareness.

They were dormant in essence but their hearts were beating
within each others embrace. Love was shown as fingers
were adorned with the notes of devotion, and as the essence
of light permeated through they became more entwined.

Tenderness was featured on each as she clung to the
repercussions of each's lust for each others needing's
had taken them. Each smiled unto the others distraction
and this old house that had at least lived for one more night.