"Books let us into their souls and lay open to us the secrets of our own." - William Hazlitt
An open casket with nothing inside.
Open emotions that just cannot hide.
Pillow so soft, just lay your head.
Listen so closely to what's being said.
Polished wood shining bright like the sun.
Turn the other cheek, to what's being done.
Whisper so softly, words from your lips.
Pain coming freely from soft finger tips.
Gentle caress of your tortured past.
How long can freedom actually last?
Wrists bound together with deception and lies.
Hideous figure hidden by a beautiful disguise.
Secrets locked tight in a figure shaped box.
All held together by many chains and locks.
Bury your secrets deep so they can't get loose.
Close your lips tight so thoughts can't seduce.
Suffocation comes slowly as air grows thin.
Give yourself over and let darkness win.
Reaching out slowly, touching nothing but wood.
Locked in your coffin, so misunderstood.
Bury your secrets well and lock them up tight.
Make sure it's in secret at the dead of night.
Hide the key high on the highest shelf.
But be careful you never bury yourself.