Through the weed grown path, no traveller walks
The place, some morbid warning portends
Hush…. hush is this place, here no bird sings
The wind here sighs in silent pain
There is a muffled horror all around the place
Even the leaves chant a sad refrain
Here, Death sits on his imperial throne
Mocking at the relics of human glory
Zealous with the task of deleting the old
To script a new chapter, a new story
With a heavy heart I stand beside these wrecks
Thinking I too shall lie here, devoid of all opulence
Leaving all my hard earned possessions behind
Without a trace, forgotten by the populace
Vacancy alone greets my pensive eyes
Each life here is a volume closed down,
To be cast aside and eventually forgotten,
Or erased forever with no name or renown