The Building With Rust-Red Resistane

White windows of painted boards, and an exterior of rust-red resistance. What infinite hallways dwell behind your doors? An army of cream-clad patients, sunken cheeks and hollowed eyes, these are the images that come to mind, and I feel the tension of the smoldering gaze of the building with rust-red resistance. A hand with no strength within, fingers white as cod, and I ask, “to whom is it kin?” the building with rust-red resistance. Like walking without meaning, in a nightmare of frustration, the people of the rust-red house share no sunlight with the rest of Creation. They, behind white windows of painted boards, are alone in their elation. For even while the day unfolds, the rust-red house is theirs alone, no invasion. The rust-red house is theirs alone, no invasion.