House on the Hill

Silent shadows on the hill, echoes of a life once filled

Whispers of a man who's lost himself, trapped within this hollow shell

He sits alone, in a house so still, with memories that fade and spill

Old words like wind, they drift away, lost in the dusk of yesterday

Two cats near his side, watch time pass slow, waiting for a sign to show

His voice is gone, but his eyes still see, a silent plea, his own ghostly decree

While she works fields of miles away, he fights the night and the shadow’s sway

In his heart, a gentle cry, longing to live, afraid to die

Living on the hill, in a house so still, caught between worlds, silent and fragile

Dying inside, he tries to hide, a fading light, a love denied

Living on the hill, stories left unfulfilled, holding on, against the chill

While his wife and boys strive on, he’s a fading song, forever gone

In the quiet, he remembers days bright, now lost in a perpetual night

Faltering whispers, broken and thin, haunted by what has been

But in his heart, a spark survives, a silent hope that keeps him alive

Waiting for the dawn to come, to find his peace, to see the sun

Home on the hill, where shadows dwell, stories of a man we'll never tell

He’s fading but history still remains, a hollow shell with loving stains

In this house of memories spun, he’s still the father, lost but someone

Holding on, in silent grace, in this lonely place.