These Ruined Halls

I walk among crumbling ruins
oblivious to their pain.

I touch dusty walls
with trembling fingers
a feeling that has no name.

Had there been feasts, here?
Banquets and dances?
The phantom participants
twirling up eddies
in the clouds of romance.

Thick-gloved hands
sift grey ashes
valuate frozen stone
salvage what comes.

I breathe into my helmet
leave my footprints in the dust.

First draft: 140531
Published: 231125