i locked myself inside
so i can feel a sense of freedom

ironic isn’t it?

my room,
my space,
my thoughts,
my own little world

just a small room away from the stigma of this household that lies beyond that bedroom door

just a little something that isn’t yours to take along with the others you’ve already taken away

Windy torrents of water and thunders echo
against a silent brown house,
It's large grey doors open, shrill voices sing,
chandeliers burn...
more sounds are heard outside, like a wailing.
chandeliers burning the ceiling...
statue wax ivory figures melt, burning in their
passion, melting turned violet red they have become
hopeful, promises of painless joys, power over
wars, famine, disease and all things of darkness
are whispered in hushed "sincerity and truth"
but still vague and opaque.
Even now a banging of hail, leaves upon a pane
all the doors blow open now
and with a shriek all of wind in the drops are
scattered drenching, so even the mid morning rain
can still drip earth upon the clear white figures
revealing their true origin
rendered **** by what once made them.

the love comes
knocking all doors
all doors were opened

they saw the sun shinning
from you forehead, that is bright
the love orders

the hearts agree
they had to do
as they accept without any argue

the love is free
touching hearts at his way
making them shivered with fear

as they may be touched with cold there
the lips are closed
the minds waited
the eyes cried
even tier beloved was near

Open a door
          and find it closed


on the other side...

But the window was locked
              but still you climbed


through..

I walked in the room,
            to find the grass plentiful.


But the flowers never blossomed.


And still I walk around even
                               though no steps
                               were ever taken.