Long ago I was told

Of the Old Concrete Hotel

Built with strong, sure hands

From the winding, whispering ground up,

And the girl who dwells within.

Her shadow leads you there,

Deep within the billowy confines of the murky woods.

Through a weaving maze of emeralds that glimmer quietly,

They await their turn to behold the sun.

Her resounding footsteps clamber through and over memories,

Into and above the boughs of trees that support the sky.

Maybe you can see her, just dashing out of sight,

In this Old Concrete Hotel

Built form the ground up,

She resides,

Commander of her kingdom, queen of her domain.

Her laugh bounces in the corridors submerged in shade,

Winding and weaving through doors unseen by you and I.

How she knows the way out of

This Old Concrete Hotel built from the ground up,

I’ll never know.

But she lives here alone,

But never lonely.

From the brink of a stairwell,

I heard her talking into the wind,

From the shrouded eaves,

She swung from vines,

Singing with a sparrow.

It was trailing through the open spaces and closed placesof my dreams,

That I finally met her eye.

In the Old Concrete Hotel,

Built from the ground up,

I searched for her once again,

But it seems she’s taken off again,

Riding the winds.

 old concrete hotel