House of Solitude

House of Solitude on my knees a consiparcy lays. These whispers on the walls, Like mute screams, Trying to climb on the chinks. When time was pure, this house was a home. Flowers and smells of Spring Filled every single room. Even the trees that grew On the green yard Were the refuge for our dreams To hide. But rainy days came And storm threw on our door nights Without moon. Our love abandoned this house Leaving the gates open. Ghosts and spirits Entered, as if they found A place to sleep, A place to hide from the storm Forever. The white walls became black, As rainy nights went on. Thorns grew on roses, Bloody thorns of a past withdrawn. And as I lay down to sleep, Memories visit me in shifts, Reminding me of our time. Nightmares I watch on sunny days Without light As rain keeps on Filling it's agony upon this single roof. And I waited for years For you to come and heal my pain, To paint this walls white again, But you never returned. You left this house With your soul in it To hunt and to betray my pure, innocent dream.