Dark, weeping shadows grace the ancient room
Filling it with a bitter, icy chill.
Wide, branching cracks break the faded walls
Letting it moan from the restless ghosts.
Deep, fading blood marks the rotting wood
Staining it for a bleak eternity.
Flickering, broken shards scattered across the floor
Sending haunting rainbows around this refuge.
Decaying papers litter the ground,
Words and stains spread across them.
A dark, metal desk sits in a lonely corner,
Recently cleaned and out of place in the room.
An old typewriter sits there,
With a fresh stack of papers next to it.
The sun shines through a nearby window,
Making light and rainbows dance 'round the haven.
There's no door to this sparkling chamber,
And it doesn't exist in this world.
It's only found in one place and that's the mind,
An escape from all the hurt and hardships.