A room with a quiet light .
A space lit but very dim.
It's dust I see .
Apon the drapes , upon the tables.
It's past full of sin.
A step in , and the floors creak.
As window blows out , cold air seeps in.
Just waiting for that thunderstorm to begin.
Quiet was the feeling , so afraid to look up .
The ceiling on fire , filling one cup.
Hot and steaming across the room .
Stood a cup of tea half gone.
And that song ...
What song ...
Quiet wind it's gone .
Now music plays and there's a battle won .
A celebration of happiness beyond.
Sudden lights go out , dark prevails.
And screaming puts a knife to your throat.
Can't say no more, the quiet wind becomes a wail.
It's cold now and I need my coat .
To walk the world away from that room .
I have failed to see what I made my tomb.
