The House of the Woods


In the forest of my youth, among the thick brush and trees
Beside a dried up stream bed, tall and all alone
Stood the house without a name made of timber and stone

Proudly sitting atop its crumbling foundation
Windowless from the strong winds that have blown
Stood the house without a name made of timber and stone

We would enter into her deserted, hollow depths
Falling from her rotten steps, climbing her brittle bones
In the house without a name made of timber and stones

She had no roof, no love, no shelter from the cold
She had no one to attend to her painful groans
This sad house without a name made of timber and stones

We would leave her in the late day, just before the night
She provided so much intrigue, mystery, so many things unknown
The old house in the woods made of timber and stone

Many years have passed and I have a family of my own
I am brought much happiness and blessings within our home
But at times I can’t help but wonder about the house of the woods
The one that stood without a name, made of timber and stone

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