Winter slowly embraces,
A cold country home,
Filled now with wistful feelings,
And of things I left undone.
Letters scattered on the desk,
These tearful goodbyes,
From someone I used to know,
Unless that too was a lie.
Near the window, the whispers,
Words I wished unsaid,
A friendly game unfinished,
White to move, but black is dead.
Negligence transforms the room,
My proud illusion,
Untouched books in empty shelves:
A study in seclusion.
The words shudder and they stop,
Like water frozen,
Silence reigns in the old house,
Discarded Recollections 