The Haunted House

We were finally face to face.
She stood there.
Without emotion.
Lifeless even.

Everything they said was true.

Battered and broken by the passage of time.
A mere shadow of her former self.
Ashy grey clouds hovered above her crumbling chimney
As she struggled to keep her head above the thick, mountain forest.

She has more than one story
But we will never know them.
Her broken windows
Offer nothing but shadows.
Shadows which tug at my imagination.

Her dingy facade faintly flashes faded color

A final effort at clinging to life.
The moss and mildew are unstoppable.
Their maleficent presence has taken over.
Decay lives here now.

Yet still she stands…
Battered and broken,
By the passage of time.