Wrapped in brown velvet,
sweet smells of old.
Shafts cut the darkness,
lit gradient gold.
Spanish moss anchored
almost ageing the trees.
Through a tinted veil
the world does tease.
Silent melodies chained
to flower patterned walls.
Dividing the emptiness
with long barren halls.
Forgotten paint peels
on thresholds mourn.
Chokes air from my lungs,
and sings with scorn.
Smothered in solitude
the loneliest embrace.
Silken tears stream
at a life thrown to waste.









Again I was far, far away from my comfort zone and so unsure about this write that I almost binned it twice....quite pleased I didn't! Thanks again for such a fab score, hope your well hunni 












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