We all were born within these walls,

dark rooms and narrow corridors.

The prodigal children,

blessed to endure the winds roaring from the windows,

immune to the cold gusting through the vents.

We all were born within these walls,

scarped staircases and caved attics.

The forsaken children,

blinded by the mist growing in the dark corners,

concealed from the light of the day.

Frail it may seem

dangerous it may get,

we are its children.

We all were born within these walls.