whispers echo,
shadows of voices i once knew
but now as desolate
as the rooms in this house.
spectors flit, the briefest reflections.
in the dusty mirrors, long-gone friends
lost, like the warmth of your hand
gone, like the breath of your soul.
eyes glare from portraits
watching my every move
as i pace the dusty floors
that once sparkled in candlelight
but do no more. |