The House of Memories

These white furniture waiting for homeliness Carrying a burden of a love Worn As worn is now their fabric. The silk curtains were once the passage To the light As featly they were waving Through the breeze. Now torn pieces are hanging by the windows Like roses withered In the land of solitude. Traces of steps still on the floor Leaving a mark of existence. Time is just a passing From windy to wooden steps From the fairytale to the truth. In this empty apartment dreams are withdrawn Into the broken walls Taking breaths from their small chinks. I am selling this house. I can't carry anymore this load So heavy, dripping tears From the ceiling. I am getting to the door listening to the floor creaking. Once, I'd listen to a melody We danced together. We lived together in this place. It's like a country I can't believe in Anymore. I am leaving this house With a part of my soul.