The Old Lady Sat

For the silent halls...

The old lady sat broken and empty
A melancholy shell longing for former glory
Bushes growing wildly along her walls
Reminding her of wild imaginations
Laughing through her halls
Stepping down her long staircase
Minds full, hearts buoyed, dreams at the ready.

But her halls fell silent, sunk into the street
Subsumed in the landscape of those
Abandoned, like the dreams that formerly
Emerged from the cocoons of imagining
Woven inside her now vacant rooms.

Author's Note

All suggested and comments welcome.