The shutters hang like tired eyes,

And whispers curl through empty halls,

Where laughter once would climb the walls

Now silence hums and memory dies.

A wind sighs through the fractured frame,

Like ghosts rehearsing whispered prayers,

And every step through dust and stairs

Feels heavy with a forgotten name.

The porch still leans, a broken grin,

Its boards recall the weight of feet

Of evenings warm, of hearts that beat,

Of life once blooming deep within.

But ivy grips what time forgot,

And branches claw through shattered panes;

The house, though still, in shadow reigns.