An old chapel hidden behind the weeds

Dirty glass and dull walls, proving abandonment by its pilgrims

Time has faded all the beauty, burying it as history

But get into it

There’s a charm that radiates from the void for anyone who sees it,

When the sun is as high as the roof,

Red, green, blue light is painted all over the room, dancing around, recounting all the prayers ever asked

In the corner of the room, the dust moves up to the roof and disappears, adding sadness to the neglection

Then the old wooden door creaked, sounding like a moaning begging to return