House of Solitude
House of Solitude
on my knees a consiparcy lays.
These whispers on the walls,
Like mute screams,
Trying to climb on the chinks.
When time was pure,
this house was a home.
Flowers and smells of Spring
Filled every single room.
Even the trees that grew
On the green yard
Were the refuge for our dreams
To hide.
But rainy days came
And storm threw on our door nights
Without moon.
Our love abandoned this house
Leaving the gates open.
Ghosts and spirits
Entered, as if they found
A place to sleep,
A place to hide from the storm
Forever.
The white walls became black,
As rainy nights went on.
Thorns grew on roses,
Bloody thorns of a past withdrawn.
And as I lay down to sleep,
Memories visit me in shifts,
Reminding me of our time.
Nightmares I watch on sunny days
Without light
As rain keeps on
Filling it's agony upon this single roof.
And I waited for years
For you to come and heal my pain,
To paint this walls white again,
But you never returned.
You left this house
With your soul in it
To hunt and to betray my pure, innocent dream.
|