The Ruin

The Ruin,
Stands stumbling,
Crying,
Calling out names of Things Lost,
Of life,
Love,
All gone.
Lost to sands of time,
The Ruin all that remains,
With nothing except the ghost,
The ghost of a time better,
Joyful.
And,
Lost.
Had children ever walked his streets?
Held his hand?
Danced or played?
The children that had been,
Gone.
Forgotten to everything, everyone,
Except he.
He who is cursed to remember,
Though everyone else,
Free to forget.
He sighs,
And settles into the muck,
Awaiting his day,
His time,
To be remembered once more.