The House That Died Poem by Saurabh Som

An Empty house
An era bygone
Fragrant shadows
Echoes mourn

Smiles and tears
Joyous... morbid
Swift emotions
Of hues myriad

They say we bury
Our emotions alive
And forget in a hurry
But they live and thrive

This house... it lives
Through Echoes and smells
Stored memories behind its walls
Mystic house... story unfurls

A memory for every one who lived
Every single sigh they heaved
A voice whispers to tell the tale
Every memory has a smell

A ball room...under keys and lock
Wooden floor
Smells of rose and holy hock
Symphony rings
True to the core

Dining room
With its sounds
Clatter of spoons
“Cheers”...doing rounds

Nursery room
Giggling smiles
Whispering winds
On broken tiles

A chimney stands
Gathering soot
Smell of fire
Burning wood

And the kitchen
The lover’s nook
For the butler and the cook
Echoes of ladle
Hitting the pan
Boiling pot
And smoking can

A bed room smells of
Shadow and light
Echoes of love talks
Of the passionate lusty nights

The house that died
To live once more
Through smell’s portal and echoes door


Is calling out to you!