Calling all poets. Submissins are open for Wingword Poetry Competition!

Abandoned Abode

Suhanee Giroti

A gray, lofty building stood alone amidst an isolated farmland, waiting to be visited. The decaying cement peeled off the walls gradually and fell on the deserted soil. There was a slight chill in the air that was hardly dispelled by the faint sunlight that was blocked by the towering trees. The light touched the dusty patches of the building and scattered onto the archaic windows. The walls were clad with encroaching poison ivy that slowly made an unsettling sound as it moved with the dead wind. The crumbling windows were the only perceptible doorway into this desolate structure. The glass was thick with grime, making it impossible to peek into the horrors of the abandoned abode.

Within the gradually perishing charcoal walls and the ominous surroundings of the building, lay a delicate interior. I stepped in gingerly through the doorway on the east side, breaking cobwebs with my head and arms and coughing as I inhaled the dusty air. On the inside, I was overcome by a sense of insufferable gloom. The beds looked unslept in, the curtains felt untouched and the mirror seemed to tell the story of a once exquisite room. The indigo carvings of the headboard were of ancient greek mythology, and the wood of the bed looked unblemished. The crimson bedspread covered the bed from end to end and the vacant windows looked over the room with a look of utter depression. N Sunlight streaked the room through a small hole in the wall and was deflected by the glass mirror that stood upright at the corner of the chamber. I looked upon the stillness of the scene - upon the mundane gray walls and the eerie silhouette of a lamp behind the frosted curtain - with utter despair that I could not compare to any other imaginable sensation.

A resplendent chandelier made of lustrous glass carvings was suspended into the drowsy air by a delicate thread in the centre of the building. Millions of dust particles covered it, a reminder of the desolation of this ‘house’.

The central staircase was blanketed by a rose red carpet that led down to a sinister basement. An unpleasant odour emanated from the wooden handrail that seemed to have become mouldy. The majestic ballroom of the building contained an untouched grand piano that was restless to sing its wondrous tunes. The dinner table was set up with golden cutlery that matched the surrounding chairs. An eerie feeling hung in the air as if the house expected its owners to return and was waiting for them patiently.


Leave a comment