THE HOLE IS THE DOOR.
August 20, 2019
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’T is my eyes,
The darkness envelops,
A secret sealed in the loop
A life; to not endure,
A lover’s safety; to ensure,
O’world,
Give unto me thy sacred possession,
And watch as I soar in elation,
A tiring labour,
Sitting and whispering to the birds at this harbor,
Seeking time to find a dime
To re-create this storyline,
An abode with a stone-coated metal roofing and a steel door,
With a fire place and wooden floors,
One filled to the brim with happiness,
And cushioned with loveliness.
I pray thee; sleep not,
The tumultuous bang you heareth,
Is the wind being defiant,
For the shadows from the harbor lingers,
Finding moulded walls of your heart to finger,
A bullet hole and a soft bone,
An open space to burrow,
The end story of a dynasty,
Or the dangers of a fantasy.
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THANK YOU FOR READING.
PLEASE DO NOT FORGET TO SHARE, SUBSCRIBE AND LEAVE YOUR COMMENTS.
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WRITTEN BY: MARIAM ALAYANDE
PHOTO BY: UNKNOWN
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Perfectly organized thought! Good work!
Thank you very much.