sometimes at night there’s music
drifting from the wood

a dusty wedding dress
a room misunderstood

once a merry crowd
laughter in the halls

now the cobwebs dance
vermin through her crawls

she sits and watches time
creaks and pops with wind

things so slowly crumble
air so sweet has thinned

so fast the rolling years
dreams if she only could, but

sometimes at night there’s music
drifting from the wood