Gone Away

Gone, whispers the peeling wallpaper.

The walls have rotted away by the pursuit

Of rainwater and the undeniable dispute

Between termites and water vapor.

Empty, groans the creaking floorboard.

Each silent noise is magnified,

Taken apart and amplified.

Marking each note of the explored.

They have all left the mansion,

Onto better lives, better places,

New societies to bless with their graces.

They have all gone away.

Alone, squeaks the rusting metal,

Each brush of the wind sending

Every chandelier turning and bending,

As if mocking a light petal.

Hollow, declares the decaying frames

Of all the windows and doors;

The glass is broken and sore,

The wood charred from old flames.

They have all abandoned this house,

No intention of returning

To fulfill past’s bitter yearning.

They have all gone away.

Absent, clamors the fracturing supports.

Each riving wooden beam

Seeming to tear apart at the seam.

And yet it never falls, only distorts.

Abandoned, roars the violent storms

That causes the world to shiver

And upturns the rivers.

In this, the weather performs.

Gone, gone away, sighs the softening sky

As dark night descends and scatters

Those who would not shatter,

Would not abuse or bruise

The splintering walls and once crowded halls,

The grimy window panes,

Or the roof that speaks when it rains.

Everyone has gone away.