Empty house

Stripped of all but memories,
The empty house
Stands desolate.
The passing of its keys —
A mere moment
In its lifespan —
Stretching into eternity.
Anticipation fills its rooms
For its next keeper —
To walk its floors,
To guard its doors —
Bleeding away the sorrow.
It knows;
What one was,
Will be no more.
Come what may,
Tomorrow brings
A brand new day.

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