Tuesday, October 2, 2012

A Room With No Doors

Trapped am I,
In this room with no doors,
No candles to
scare the darkness away
Every brick that I chose
With this very hands
Piling up neatly
One over the other
Chosing the paint,
the smell, the feeling
Building the palace
of my dreams.

when tired
and resting against the wall,
against the mist of my foggy breath,
I saw for the first time,
my palace was a prisonhouse.
And my agony lashing the darkness,
 And all her echoes,
hitting the cold walls of my heart..


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