We walk alone,

Year after year.

Troubles weigh us down,

No end in sight.

Our loads become heavy,

Our bodies weary.

Frowns on our faces,

Eyes to the sky above,

We ask for salvation.

No answer for our ears.

Hope lingers in our souls,

A hope for better days.

If not in this lifetime,

then maybe in the next.


The house stands

alone and deserted,

dark and forlorn.

The moon casts its glow

through the tall windows.

Shadows fall on the

shiny wood floors.

Mice scurry from sight.

Dust mites fly through the air.

The wind whistles through

the cavernous rooms.

Rooms that had once held people,

furniture, and signs of life.

Signs of laughter and hope.

Now the house sits alone and dark.

What could have brought it

to such an end?

Has death entered this house?

Bringing with it sickness and sorrows.

Or has the family simply moved away?

A house holds secrets,

close to its heart.

Secrets that lie buried

beneath its floors

and foundations.

Be careful where you dig.

You might not like

what you find.


I miss you,

dear brother.

So many years

have passed

without you.

Without you to

share my adventures,

my happiness,

my sorrows.

Life has been lackluster

without you.

It’s been missing a

vital ingredient.

It’s been missing you.