Emptiness,
isolation,
confined in an open space.
The air travels
seeking for something
but all it finds
is hollow aisles.
The sun warms
empty corners left behind,
holding loud and silent echoes
of lives that once roamed around.
And when night falls,
the moon and stars watch
over the freezing walls
that mourn the remembrance
of the muted screams of fatality.
an Inspiration Sunday poem
poetry about how history speaks to us at historical sites
