Chapter 1: Shadows of the Past

Lost in time,
Weaved with memories,
It was but an old house,
Silent under the swaying trees.

Its creaking doors sang tunes of yore,
Of laughter and tears it once bore.
The halls once echoed with hurried feet,
Now lie in stillness, bittersweet.

Dust settled like a gentle shroud,
On forgotten dreams once spoken aloud.
The clock on the wall, its hands long gone,
Ticked only in echoes of twilight’s song.

The garden, untamed, grew wild and free,
A tangle of ivy and old oak tree.
Each leaf whispered tales in the breeze,
Of a home that lived and loved with ease.


Chapter 2: The Hearth of Dreams

Once upon a time, a fire burned bright,
In the heart of the house, every night.
Children gathered, spinning dreams,
By the hearth’s warm and golden beams.

A mother’s lullaby, soft and low,
Spoke of worlds where dreams could grow.
A father’s stories, rich with lore,
Built castles in minds that longed for more.

The wooden beams that held the roof,
Felt the weight of love as its truest proof.
Each scar and dent, each worn-out stair,
Held whispers of those who once lived there.

Morning sunlight filtered in,
Through curtains torn and worn too thin.
The dining table, carved with care,
Now stood alone, a ghostly chair.

Memories lingered, etched in space,
In every corner, in every place.
The house was more than brick and stone—
It was a keeper of lives it had once known.


Chapter 3: Nature Reclaims

Years rolled on, as time will do,
And nature came to claim its due.
The ivy wrapped its emerald arms,
Around the house’s fading charms.

The roof sagged under the weight of years,
Its eaves wept rain like ancient tears.
The windows, cracked, held broken glass,
Reflecting the sky and blades of grass.

Yet even in decay, beauty grew,
In mossy walls and morning dew.
A harmony between past and present,
A quiet hymn, divinely...