The house is empty—nothing left.
Desolation fills the halls.
Everything left unkempt.
These walls were once a home before
All the tables fell.
Now all that is left is darkness, fingerprints no more.
From the depths of my soul
The air is suffocating me
Piercing my heart, freezing my bones.
Desolation clings to the walls, like a perfect fit.
Someone liberate me from this horror unforeseen—
Help me find out why its owners left it.
Should I clean the walls and creaking boards
That line the forsaken house?
Maybe someone will soon come home.
But I’m afraid that this ash below
Is the house’s way of saying
No one will ever come back home.
Ded. To the empty promises we hear
