The Room

Broken bits of mirror
Lying accusingly on the floor
Dusty and foreboding
Thrown from their frame
The outline of a fist
Dug deep into the wall
Matches its twin in the mirror frame
Light is thrown like forgotten rainbows
Amid the shattered shards of glass
Memories and tear stains
Cover the dried crinkled rose petals on the floor
The air is full of misery
Tinged with rage and age
And the window is frosted with regret
The walls stand silent witnesses
The memories entombed within
Weeping stones and curls of faded paint
Scarred with tragedy
Unopened letters on the dresser
Sealed with blood red ink
Addresses worried away by time
And singed yellow ribbon beside it
Brown faded droplets
Of blood on the carpet and wall
Declare heartbroken misery
For all to see
Tatter tapestries hang limply
A moth gnawed wedding dress
Inside a cobweb crowned closet
Diamonds lying useless in the box
Once such regal finery
There meaning is now lost
The bed is neat
Covered in folded silks
And dust
Perhaps a young bride widowed
Perhaps a scorned lover's end
Perhaps a broken hearted angel
Laid claim to this room
But perhaps we will never hear
The distant cry from within
That tells its tale of woe
And of the hidden bodies stashed below.





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