I sat inside a rotting house,
With rotting bones, a rotting soul,
My limbs grew weak yet I’d not rouse,
For the floors and walls and roof were whole.

I sat, my feet spread on the ground,
I saw the paint fall off and crumble,
I heard the blood in my ears pound,
The aching frame a failing mumble.

I sat and did not move an inch,
As the wooden boards had not caved in,
The shutters cracked, yet I’d not flinch,
As letting go, I’d bid a sin.

I sat and let the world go by,
As memories had pinned me here,
I swore I’d sit here till’ I die,
As promise overpowered fear.