Gone Is The Time

What sad symposiums these walls echo!
Fleeting glimpses of times gone by,
Of shadows hinted at in half-seen meetings...
And what ovated orchestras these columns whisper!
Sadly, they are notes but passing as though leaves,
And tales spun by those yearning for yesteryear.
But then, softly now!...softly,
The chirrup of a bird resounds and resonates,
Lone and innocent.
What innocence these walls remember,
O', for wisdom gained! The loss of childhood.
No longer does the sound of children's laughter ring,
No longer do these hallowed hall's doors open,
Gone is the time! And gone is the place.
Weep with me now, as age takes it's toll, and tolls the death-bell,
Of all that's held dear.