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Behind This Closed Door.


After the door shuts and the footsteps die,

I surf the darkness before my eyes.

The vast emptiness goes on and forever I see,

Nothing more then that of the darkness,

Cascading before me.

In my thoughts the blood rages like a tide to the moon,

To protrude and elapse on this dull-dreary view.

Before me is what it left of me,

It stretches out to every corner

And binds me to what I see.

Darkness and consumption of every fiber is to feel,

To escape would be intrusive into my mind and this ordeal.

Vacant holes in my heart take hold in my soul,

Represented here in this house- 

To the door that is shut,

That keeps me whole.

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divinity11

"There are dreamers and there are realists in this world. You'd think the dreamers would find the dreamers and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not the opposite is true. You see, the dreamers need the realists to keep them from soaring too close to the sun. And the realists, well without the dreamers, they might not ever get off the ground."

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