From the Ashes
Sometimes it is a miracle,
that the cracked house still stands.
Exfoliated paint has dimmed,
the always lively outer walls.
Crumbled wall joints have given,
the luxury estate a poor appearance.
The door hangs in the frame,
showing the many break ins,
this house has had to endure,
and when entering,
the emptiness proves the robberies,
of this dilapidated mansion.
Antique pink walls hint the past,
of parties with women in fancy dresses,
drinking champagne and cocktails,
whose spirits now haunt,
this desolated, empty place.
Where have they gone, I wonder?
A painting falls down the wall,
one from the baroque period,
that surprisingly still shows,
every detail of the painters work.
I am lost in this castle,
with its empty spaces and walls,
and the many cobwebs,
covering the ceiling –
even the spiders have left.
There is nothing left for me,
and a little bird on the window sill,
tells me it is time to leave.
Against all the voice,
telling me to say goodbye,
there is one asking me to stay,
for even a house in this broken state,
has a chance of coming back to life.
Love is a force,
with unbreakable strength,
that can make a flower bloom,
in the middle of the winter.
When you collect this force,
that is deep within your heart,
miracles will begin to happen,
and even an old dilapidated house,
can arise from its ashes!