The return

His weary feet dragged
His wearier body
Towards the house
He once called home.

He stood in front of it
Under the full moon
Silver rays shining down
On a desolate ruin.

He climbed the steps of porch
The wood creaked under his feet
Weary by age and neglect
It protested his heavy weight.

he walked toward the door
where once she waited for him
every evening with a smile
when he returned from work.

Cobwebs tangling with his body
Bats swooping by
He entered the deserted house
That was once his home.

No one was there
The rooms were bare
None has been there
Since ages it seemed.

He leaned against the wall
Mournful like the house itself
Looking for traces
Which could take him to his love.

Then he heard a voice
Startled by it he turned to face
An old friend a neighbour,
Standing on the doorway.

“She waited for you right here,
While you chased mirage
We have laid her down
Under the oak tree there.”
“The tree under which you two
Loved each other and spent hours
Your names are still written
On its trunk, its branches shelter her.”