Derelict

This house was once warm and bright. 
The sound of your voice filled its rooms. 
The outpourings of your soul, the golden fire 
That warmed the cold walls 
And made them breathe. 
The laughter from your heart, the golden light 
That made the sun shine out from within. 

Now the house stands deserted. 
Your occasional visits stir it to life 
Once in a while, 
Only for it to fall back into silence 
Once you are gone. 
Just the ticking of the clock remains, 
Echoing through the lifeless halls. 
The house awaits the final silence.