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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.
Copyright ©
Thomas Wells
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