Some doors had collapsed or were perhaps destroyed by looters or animals as time passed. Either way they left a welcoming entrance for animals. Paint crumbled off of the walls and were slowly replaced by vines that crawled their way towards the rooftops.
Pomovaara, once nothing more than a simple, quiet town was now partially reclaimed by nature. The wind in the trees and the creaking of wood were the new dominant sounds in a once lively community rich in sounds of joy and simple pleasures.
The lighthouse was once a beacon in multiple senses of the word. The once bright light on the outskirts of town was now merely a broken pillar and the perfect spot for nesting birds who gladly took advantage of this.
Street after street of abandoned homes made for a terrifying thought. Each house was once a home, a home belonging to a family and now there was only emptiness. But there was something oddly poetic about nature reclaiming what was once theirs to begin with.
Many doors had collapsed as rot ate away their edges. The open doorways that were once perhaps very welcoming were now an eerie and unwelcoming sight. Many walls and balconies had collapsed. Without proper maintenance and cleaning it was easy for rot and water to do their damage.
Coalfell , once a growing community of hundreds of families was now a forgotten remnant of a time long passed. The creaking of wood and grinding of metal on metal were the only sounds in this town now. They were disturbing noises in a disturbing environment.
The scents of fresh bread, various fruits and all sorts of other foods once filled the air of the market place. Now there’s only the fresh air from the nearby forests to enjoy, as well as the occasional animal droppings that ruin it.
Were it not for the animals that had made their home in many of the buildings this town would’ve surely been a far more unsettling sight. But there was an odd sense of harmony as nature reclaimed what was theirs and resettled an old balance.