The walls, they listen to whispered thoughts,
The creaking floors, my solace they've caught.
Shadows play their part in this lonesome scene,
A dance of introspection, where I find what's been.

Fading photographs on walls so cold,
Each frame is a story of love untold.
Voices that once filled these echoing halls,
Now silent, like faded footprints on crumbling walls.

The chair across sits vacant, a ghostly reverie,
A table set for two,...