The Desolate Frame

On the decrepit wall
living through the veil of time
and the wrath of fate
that once housed a radiant smile
of the cohesive pair
who no longer smiled.

Now, it tolerated its own weight
hanging with the frayed threads
The grime of time and the dust of fate
Together weaving an animated state.

It sang its own story
through the mass of dust and the damp walls
of the generous times
of pleasure and the rapture
of togetherness and love
and a perfect past.

It squealed and screamed
to bring back the smile
the love
and its benign shine.

Now, it was all done
Faith battered and scratched
Biting the bitterness
and the bare clan.

An empty frame is all it now was.