Closed doors and broken windows,
An abandoned old building
With a falling roof;
Everywhere is the sign of dilapidation.
The rain trickles down the walls
Making patterns irreversible,
Marking the passage of time;
Slowly and steadily some rust accumulates
On the pipes that travel upwards and downwards,
All along the walls;
Abandoned and forgotten, this old house
Still reeks of its former glory.
On the fruit of labor it was built
And without it death stalks it down.
How futile our efforts to make something
That unmakes us in their making.
1 comment:
i like this one too as all your other post..the best part is how most of your post are open ended for the reader to interpret..
in this specific one,it just seems like a nice detailed description of an old house but when one is done reading it,the last few lines makes you look at it and relate to the whole write up in a different way all together...i simply love the last two lines..as always leaves a great impact making one really think!!..and they forced me to read the whole post again a number of times and trying to connect related and unrelated things with it..over all its nice...and i love the last picture.. :-)
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