There, there layed the broken pieces of glass and hopes, and
a decade old wardrobe sued in between the broken windows retelling a story.
The absence of the bright hues, made the rooms speak the tales of the old.
The tales of the knights and the glee men.
The good old chimney wasn't puffing, sheltering the rodents of the beneath.
The happy murmurings of the flies,
lanterns without lights, guided them.
To those long forgotten eras, and
walked, through those dusty pathways, cuddling the mystic darkness, and wearing a grin resembling curiosity.


- @thepoetharri©