In a house of the past I find solace,
Lost in time, memories gently embrace.

Walking through rooms echoing with age,
Whispering secrets, turning each page.

Faded wallpaper tells tales of old,
Like secrets whispered but never told.

Sunlight streams through windows, like golden threads,
I trace them back, where yesterday treads.

In the attic, forgotten treasures hide,
Memories waiting patiently, time aside.

Dusty photographs and letters of love,
A delicate dance from skies high above.

The creaking floorboards echo in my mind,
As I navigate the corridors, here I find

A sense of belonging in these hallowed halls,
Lost in time, where the past still calls.

The hearth, now cold, once a comforting fire,
Now only embers remain, dimming desire.

But within these walls, the spirits thrive,
Lost in time, where memories survive.

For every faded smile and whispered word,
An ancient tale waiting to be heard.

The old house speaks, if you listen close,
Of love, laughter, and the ones we chose.

In its weathered beams, a history lies,
Whispering truths as time flies.

Lost in time, we are destined to be,
But the old house, it finds unity.

In the shadows it stands, a timeless art,
Where memories and time will never part.

© 𝓡.𝓕𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓼 𝓟𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓢𝓸𝓾𝓵