Thomas Wells Poet Free verse

Mysteries of the Abandoned

Breathe deeply my legacy,
My mysterious abandonments
My asylums of the dead.
So many forgotten dwellings
Now boarded up and cold.
I once wore them and shed them
Like snakeskins.
All these mental spaces,
What was their meaning?
What visitations did I encounter?
So many giant houses of horror,
Gothic crumbling, rotting 
mansions of ruin.
There, I was imprisoned
In solitary confinement self-imposed,
Like a rodent feeding on garbage,
I never thought to look beyond.
I breathe deeply into this meager legacy.
Now all these houses remain idle.
Why I occupied them, I will never know. 
In my final chapter, I see,
Everything was empty.

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Brian Sambourne December 27, 2023 at 8:39 AM Hello Thomas, Quite an intriguing metaphor - abandonments - conveying an exterior and interior reality. From "boarded up...forgotten dwellings" to "solitary confinements" an inner isolation; you've caught a quandry of existence. Why do we occupy such places, abandoned and forlorn? Such thoughtful writing to engage the reader fully. Be well. Brian Thomas Wells December 29, 2023 at 6:08 PM Thank you, Brian! Indeed, your description captures the poem's message. It is one of the darker poems I have ever written. I always appreciate your insights. Happy holidays to you and your family. :-)