The empty house stands desolate and stark,

With broken windows, bare and lifeless walls,

No welcome waits within the deepening dark.

The garden's choked with weeds, a tangled ark,

Where shadows stretch and deepen as night falls,

The empty house stands desolate and stark.

The roof is breached, the walls begin to arc,

In rooms where silence echoes through the halls,

No welcome waits within the deepening dark.

No fire burns within the chimney's mark,

No laughter rings, no comfort there at all,

The empty house stands desolate and stark.

The paint is peeling, leaving but a mark

Of faded grandeur, and the plaster falls.

No welcome waits within the deepening dark.

The echoes whisper, memories embark,

But life has fled beyond the garden walls,

The empty house stands desolate and stark.

No welcome waits within the deepening dark.