By: Gus Victoria
There is a window
In a house yet unbuilt
That opens to a view
Of a landscape familiar,
If the key could be found.
I walk the house in my dreams,
Searching, ever searching,
For the iron-wrought key
Lost before the house was built,
Unknown and forgotten,
Until that window was discovered,
Behind the frames are cobwebs,
Covering the shelves is dust,
On the walls are memories,
Like the paint
They peel away, dry and empty,
Leaving bare walls
Of aberrant beauty
Where once they hailed
A life now gone,
That window opens to a new sunrise,
Over known ground,
But it remains closed,
Always closed,
Unless the key is found,
Hidden away
In a place unknown,
Hidden away in another dream,
Come now lover,
Come now to this house,
Help me search,
Is the key with you?
No comments:
Post a Comment