Steel Bars

A bedroom should be pleasant a place where futures are conceived where wonderful dreams in their effervescence are woven and believed. when dreams aren't loved, supported and nurtured, they are cast aside along with the future. weeds now grow instead of flowers, rhapsodies of life to be, has lost all of its wondrous powers. it is at that time the bedroom is changed. where windows once stood with freedom's form. steel bars are now in the window frame and the factory for dream weaving has been transformed. the mill of fabrics has been shut down, the thread has dry rot and can not bound. there will be no more sewing of seams, for love is dead, and so are the dreams. imaginary, ha you think so? steel bars of betrayal, oppression & humiliation .... believe me because I know. imaginary... ha.. you think so? steel bars of heartache, tyranny, anguish and disbelief ..... believe me because I know. imaginary ... facsimiles .... replicas..... do you believe these steel bars not to be true ? they are there ..... believe me, i'll give you a clue. bedroom walls which could tell many tales, now bleed and cry. smashing freedom as do all jails, with its boarders wondering why? a million pieces of devastation... dreams of love are now only mutilations. a retardation of two hearts and souls. hearts once joined are now at opposite poles. so the bedroom turns from a happy place to sad. with bars of steel that are eternally had. bars of steel that destroy and breed hatred. bars of steel that satan deems sacred. victory can be gained over those bars of steel. to conquer that demon, love must prevail. dream dreams of love, and sew with the strongest of thread. weave your fabric of love, the dream mill must be started again. make room in your heart, soul and head...... for the dream weaver........................ the dream weaver returns triumphant again!