Drifting through the darkening halls,

from room to room,

shadows spread like ink gliding across the walls,

the silence loud and crackling,

he wonders on his life,

loves,

dust dancing through beams,

we know nothing of time,

we know nothing of death,

we are here until we are not,

alone,

ageless in those moments,

timeless,

he remembers the boy,

see’s through his eyes,

a familiar melancholy washes over him,

warm,

soft,

insistent,

he wonders if loss is all there is,

as it turns out…

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