These halls seem somewhat hollow
A certain sense of sorrow
Now graces ancient stone.
Replacing familiar faces
With defaced family paintings
And cold ancestral bones.
Thrones thrown upon a pyre.
Fate becomes the folly
Tomorrow the unknown,
The brows of time are furrowed
Past spent, lost, or borrowed
Flowers forever bloom alone.
Rats, the last lords of ruin
Rule cruel shadows from the walls.
Twilight sighs at daylight's rise
All seems dark till darkness falls.

Grief's canvas stretches wide and bare
A blank slate waiting, with no one to share
The brushstrokes of memories, once vibrant and bright
Now muted and faded, in the dark of night

The paint of pain, a deepening hue
A color that clings, to all I once knew
The strokes of sorrow, bold and free
A portrait of longing, for what used to be

The process of healing, a slow reveal
A layering of emotions, a complex feel
The colors of love, still shining through
A radiant glow, in all I once knew

The subject of my heart, a beloved face
A masterpiece of memories, in a sacred space
Though faded and worn, the love remains
A portrait of devotion, through joy and pains

The final brushstroke, a gentle touch
A whisper of acceptance, a heart that's too much
The portrait complete, a story told
A testament to love, that never grows old

In this masterpiece of grief and love
I find solace, sent from above
A reminder of what was, and what will be
A portrait of devotion, for all eternity.