Untitled

the house lay dormant and silent...fatigued by the weight of the pressure...a pressure which lies within.

there is no one left inside...no, not in that particular room. a room that lays at the heart of the home, that spreads the fire of life throughout the home; a centrifuge of hope - no longer occupied - now desolate; lifeless.

the tapestries set aloft the beams of wood and nail that brace the walls in place left open and disorganized - bleak with fear and tainted by a darkness outside.

the world around it was no different...absent, lost, broken; empty. it was only a matter of time before the walls would cave in.

a ghostly whisper of breeze swam through the halls leaving a bitter chill to prickle your spine - and the candles, once lit, no longer burn...

in this empty room you once sat, you once played, you once said that you'd always stay...you made promises no longer kept, but broken where mending may never step...this room filled with many ways in, but few ways out, now sits darkly in a presence without...

i wish for the sun to rise once again...to stir up the darkness within...to break the chains of bleak design and color my world in that which is Devine...