Brocken shadows decide to linger
just a little longer.
The 12 am tears stain my face like bleach on a linen shirt
Dates with the dark are common
and the tsunamis of the past come to crash the world I' d so gracefully built
The brocken violin playing a sad song, the only one I know.
The ivy crawling up the old walls of the cage that keep me away from the outside world,the world I so miss to see.
The youthful one sings in the halls, her voice echoing and her delicate frame dancing before a single candle light. Yet when she turns, her face is seen crumbling, like the wall paper of the room.
No key will unlock the door that so blatantly is in front of me. I have tried to knock it down but my mortal blows are no match for the chains of this moster.
The stench of lonliness is overbearing. When will I smell the taste of freedom?
When will I walk the earthly ground?
When will I kiss the cheeks of life?
For the Gods only know, how trapped I am here.