Open house today. The home of ghosts seems tranquil but the murmurs inside are restless and afraid. The old barn is open, baring itself in sadness; even the grass seems to know it will soon be goodbye.
But this house has seen death, whose specter remains; and this house has seen anger and all that is pain. We will part as friends though I'll never return. And I'll wish it's new steward all brightness and home.