The Room With The Lively Pall

Fiery beams caress the room

Crimson sunlight filters through

It hearkens hell but not of doom

Speaks it to me, this witches' brew.

Beams of flame embrace the wall

And cast a perfect pallor here

They form a sort of lively pall;

Inspire wry smiles and deeper fear.

Oxblood leaves cause me to ponder

I'd like to stay, desire to know

Just why my soul is loathe to wander.

What does this yearning of me show?

The charm this setting holds for me:

As it were, a subtle tell

A mental archaeology

Of mortal musings, feelings fell.

Herein lies life's paradox

Defiantly, with bloodred flush

We dance a waltz in looming Shade

Drowning out the ticking clocks

Soon voices suffer ordained hush

Our fleeting lives, away they fade.