Kristina

In a house I know well

Hides a big, black hole

Under in-ways and out-ways,

Ascension-ways and dissention-ways, 

Big, black and abyssal as the unknown soul.

It serves as a storage space

So many things go in

But rarely do things come out, and

Often curiosity begs me, become a scout!

Until I spot a devil, sleeping in his den.