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When I stand before an abandoned structure,
so many thoughts stir within me.
I wonder what this place was like
when it still held purpose— when footsteps filled its halls
and time moved through it with intention.

Sometimes it feels as though the building itself
leans in to speak, its  voice weathered and trembling,
like an old soldier or athlete reaching back for a youth
that can never return.

The true mystery lies in what remains—
the soft decay, the lingering shapes of memory.
Through my lens, I try to honor that fading beauty,
capturing what time leaves behind
before it disappears forever.

© 2025 by Richard Jazzar for JazzArt Photography

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