Walking without purpose

Carries our wandering feet

Delivers them to the ornate, enticing

Doors of monsters

Past the dark, musty, unsettling

Windows of truth

Their unnoticed power looming overhead

Like an impending storm, ready

Unwillingly prepared to break the sky

Drops wet our brows quietly

And evaporate of no consequence to us

We are too beautiful, too mighty

This world can't destroy us

can it?

Reality, very much maternal

Feeds, encourages, teaches, disciplines

Enriches the weak, punishes the defiant

Turning your back will save face

But surely decay guilty bones

And bodies of once whitest ivory

Turn hobbled, of splintered wood

Lacking a true understanding

Of just what can happen in the shadows

The windows dim their lamps

Confined to one small, desperate

Wailing expression of the written word

Teacher, the lesson can't be reviewed

Always taught, but never learned

Always lit, but never burns

And if the tide should ever turn

Your may find yourself sprinting

Forever down your twisted road.