Surrounded By Clasps

He had lost the key to his heart a few turns ago The door pitifully creaked in its worn out hinges Cobwebs smirked wryly on his dread locked beard Haunted by the dark spineless spider in his soul Locked down and shut out on a threshold of destiny He picked his stubble as if to loosen a hapless bolt The latch had long given way to rusty corrosion Traces of decades’ oil mere traces of function A fastener slowed down captured steady arrest Pick axes of time surrendered as dust turned to dust Memory’s cellar displayed on still roots of decay Once more he scratched the surface of sorrow The doorman bereft of shrewd loosening screws Tightened his resolve and decided to move on Reached for a grimy crowbar and lunged forward After few futile attempts it dawned on the guy That he needed to take back one step at a time Wisened by the door stop he walked around … 07th February 2020