Damp wooden floor,
Mighty spider’s shelter- an ominous grey cobweb,
Flakes of wall
Integrated the mansion.
The landlord was superannuated from life
Without taking his pension.
The dark lonely aisle struggles
To utter some bright stories,
Throwing light upon the hidden lanes…
Ah! But the lantern is dusty
Can’t highlight the nuances of
The portrait hanging on the wall!
Misty night envelops the house
For three sixty five days of a year.
And the three sixty sixth day gets cold welcome
To the school of rest of the days
After every four years.
And the mansion still stands
With a deep monotonous tone.