Here's a piece I wrote recently. How is it?

Few can know the beauty of a quiet mausoleum
Sitting in a terrace filled with ash grey silhouettes;
It shivers as it stands upon it's moss enclosed oasis.
I've never seen an edifice so still,
Breathing souls, the wind of death...
Whispers silent, utters soft,
"Go forth now from this transient loft!
I've told so many self induced dead men now,
There are troubles up ahead,
But you'll make it somehow.
Be bothered not by trivial things...
Let life in and all it brings.
Now leave this place of earthen decay,
This lies here only for you some other day."
So I flittered out into the world of unknown,
Trying to listen to the chorus of my heart's song,
But I fell upon the wet cement of retrograde depression.
I crumbled and fell like most children,
My brain got carried away in a maelstrom of some maniac's obsession.
And again I heard a eerie voice,
My eyes labored up to find
The face of an ancient lady
Who was speaking directly to my mind.
"Come hither, young child and you shall see,
The mistakes I have made.
I'll show them to thee.
Look at that one...I decided not to wed
Against my heart's ambitions....
I chose an old maid's life instead.
Gaze here now.
To show you this one will be hardest.
I was afraid to take a chance on being an artist.
Never refute this life you've been given...
Don't ever turn away from
The dreams for which you have striven."
And with that, the matron sidled away,
I pondered my life
And the price of dismay.
I conceded that it costed too much to worry...
I'll be gone soon enough,
There is no need for me to hurry.
So few know the wisdom of a quaint mausoleum.
So few can manifest the wonder
That they carry submerged within.
Appreciate the phantoms of a ripe old summer day.
Never let your mind trick you
Into bringing yourself into dismay.