#WritcoPoemChallenge
Lost in time,
weaved with memories,
It was but an old house
In the path of woods, now defunct.

With a warm welcome
By a zephyr, still as fresh as a daisy
Entered through window,
Some are raw, some are balmy .

The treasure of gold
Are precious though
But with times, the torn pieces
Tucked into a fabric of cloth.

Memories are your shadow,
Friends or enemies, you wish
Still follows you,
Till your denouement.

Lingering in an old house
In the path of woods, locked in past
Will never see autum or spring
Where the birds chirp on turret.

© Priyanka AGRAWAL