A wooden door at the entrance, marking the way inside,
Where tranquillity and serenity reside.

A place of rest and comfort is marked by fluffed pillows and sheets.
Clothes, DVDs, books and vessels of knowledge lay inside, enclosed by two doors that meet.

Well-loved items are in prime spot, resting upon covers of cotton.
These few but special sentimental things, sit atop the pillows, reminding me of memories, messages and experiences that I think of often.

But the true soul and personality are revealed when one looks over and up.
For adorned and plastered on the walls are quotes, paintings and pictures, with great meaning and a sense of quirkiness, somewhat.

These have been created, inspired by events and dreams and hopes, made with care and precision.
Made in times of sadness, or joy, composed in times of great emotion.

Resting on a shelf, where they cannot fall, is a means for sight; these are needed as such,
Impaired vision is the technical name, the condition that needs these pieces of glass that seem so little, but mean so much.

A jar sits alone, hidden under the bed, half full with coins, a goal is in sight, but still lays far down the track.
Tickets, receipts, stickers and photos, all unable to be parted with, left under the bed in a stack.

This is a safe haven, a warm and cosy place.
No nightmares can linger, no horror too great.

For this is a retreat; a place to hide from fear,
There is no evil that can kill, the good vibes that lay here.

Fantasy and real alike, are all left behind as one lays down, and thinks, of past or present, future or never, none of this matters and I agree,
This is a special place, a place of comfort, safety and peace.