an abandoned house
saps the spirit with its
nagging and chilling
emptiness, a black hole
that sucks out the
shimmering warm sun
to throw shadows and
ice over the hazy lanes of
imagination
a broken empty house
on the height echoes
relentless gloom and tales of woe
through each of its missing
chilling window panes
missing pages of a horror
story that solicit entries
from the haunted mind
of an innocent who has
lost his way in the dark of night
the overgrown grass
strays haphazardly and
almost in a haste to doors,
windows, walls and collapsing
roof to claim its static prey
they wake up a body of
monks (ghost bumps)
with their reverberating
aum aum chants that
have the negative effects
of sending shivers down one's spine
a torn and soiled jacket strewn
across the menacing garden
a little baby's drum, holed and beaten
out of shape by the unkind weather
carry with them broken dreams
an empty house wears itself out
sooner than an occupied house
a world shunning loner, who eventually
descends into despair, a wretched
soul losing all its charm and love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent! Thank you for including your source of inspiration; I too use this technique (reading is my fuel) . What a perfect way to describe the way a decrepit house captures us, 'saps the spirit with its nagging and chilling emptiness.' You communicate perfectly the despair.