The room would be filled by spiders hanging on, building it's web,
Any stranger entering the room would never feel lonely.
Memories of dining cherished,
Half-eaten foods spoiled by rats.
I know I would regret myself after opening the shower,
As the water would give a foul smell,
Gardens going out of water,
The Hall being out of noise.
As I stood there at the corner of the room,
I was anxious to open the next room,
There sat an old lady,
Windows shattered and things blown,
As she was continuing her stitching work,
Poking the pin and couldn't get it back.
Similar to those people who are in heaven,
And couldn't return back,
When asked about her wellness,
She would always reply,
I am blind.
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