poetry · Uncategorized

The Door

locked door

It’s been two years that I closed that door,

Nights passed as my sight bore the floor.

I turn around to face the mirror,

Fresh scars with blood smeared.


The heart skips to see the tenacious reds,

For many years, the soul has bled.

My fingers tremble while I splash,

The water hurts a crisp thrash.


I throw the keys in the sea of hate,

The clock says it’s half past eight.

I walk away from the hollow castle,

Propelling open the three soft tassels.


I walk till the rain wets my bones,

Seeking help till I enjoy my groans.

Wandering, I enter the woodland,

Falling asleep amidst the sand.


I eat the grass, I drink the dew,

Sky becomes my favorite view.

An oak becomes a beloved haven,

The forest and inhabitants an entire nation.


I gaze at the stars and recollect the erst,

The bitterness that got me immersed.

Asters begin smelling fruity,

The wildness captures entire beauty.


One fine night, while consuming the moonlight,

My left calf swells of a bug’s bite.

Whilst looking for aid, my eyes squeeze,

At the lighthouse which offers a breeze.


Following the glow, I tiptoed to a place,

Which looked familiar yet not the same.

The similitude that gave me jitters,

A fading memory which didn’t cease to glitter.


My inner self warned, but I moved on,

To the thorny path that got me corns,

The pain was alike, the emotions still ripe,

I entered the same locked door again… but with no gripes!


via Daily Prompt: Tenacious


4 thoughts on “The Door

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