Things have a life of their own.

Lying here, all alone

Coated in dust, a veil of past fame

Now reduced to mere

Physical stuff

Neither selling nor bringing joy

Their true meaning ruined by misfortune and death

Old ideas no longer matter

They’re just a means to an end.

Warm afternoon sun

Traversed the house from east to west,

Its shifting rays cast shadows

That dissolved fleeting pains,

Until the wind swept them off,

Lulling all unease to rest by night.

I don't know how they changed like this

Neglected and unloved

When people feel scorned, this outcome occurs.

Tossed aside and forgotten for years

Now it's time for a change

New values permeate our surroundings.

A genuine discovery is emerging

This discovery stems from

Past unfortunate events.