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A tiny cottage holding 'unaccepted'
Led my feet driving inside.
And old man, unhinged and quiet,
Looked at mine with his tiny eyes.
This man silently hollow, said
Nothing but conversed clearly.
Through his calm and stance,
He welcomed my breathless heart.
His stare wasn't the one smiling,
Like those offered to me around.
In his uncanny, unwelcoming blue,
He had given me a standable ground.
His brown head lined with grooves,
Signaled at me I needed to stay.
The way I came driving inside,
My hue wished not to get away.
" you unaccept this world for it
Pains you and pricks your
Wounds without no break."
Said a voice in shivers of age.
" but you unaccept yourself
For you entered through such
A door people seldom look at.
What is it ? Your soul now say."
" had you any voice to sell
I would let my soul speak.
Had the world been noiseless
Someone atleast could hear me."
He did introduce me a deathbed,
Portalised to a shift of reality.
It seemed not the peice to puzzle,
In my mere mourn for remedy.
In the cottage I sat like home.
Out of the malicious maze,
Away from a mythical moon,
Stood my heart in the midst boon.
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