A door that never felt the key,
A chair that waits, a silent plea.
A candle hushed before it burned,
A page unturned, a path unlearned.

The window stares with sightless eyes,
The dust remembers, the mirror lies.
The walls lean close, they seem to hear,
Yet hold no voice, just hollow years.

The clock still ticks, yet tells no truth,
Each second sewn in severed proof.
A room untouched, yet worn by time,
A life once held, now left behind.