The Empty Manor
A silent hovel
All that remains
Of that once great place,
A gentle breeze
Sweeps the grounds
Which house their last remains
Tombs towering
Over the sweeping lawns
Whispering carved words
An immortal song
For the shriveled bones.
I wonder, stepping by the gate
What manner of folk lived here,
If they were happy,
If they were sad,
Perhaps it was a grand family
Who stayed all together
And dies one by one
Leaving a sole survivor
To perish in the silence.
All that remains
Of that once great place,
A gentle breeze
Sweeps the grounds
Which house their last remains
Tombs towering
Over the sweeping lawns
Whispering carved words
An immortal song
For the shriveled bones.
I wonder, stepping by the gate
What manner of folk lived here,
If they were happy,
If they were sad,
Perhaps it was a grand family
Who stayed all together
And dies one by one
Leaving a sole survivor
To perish in the silence.
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