The box of my cove of treasure,
Storm of threads for my body weaved.
Dust interlaid through the year,
Snatched and strewn of my lead.
The doors of creak scream,
With such learned body to deem.
What truth would lay awake
When night comes opened to my heart's drapes.
Hidden away words would flee,
Would the world dissipate in a wink?
The lies by day I slee,
Would it push, far to brink?
Deteriorating my will,
I oil the hinges threatening to fall.
Falling apart, will I stand still?
Or will I appear in light, enthralled?
My doubts compiled in chapters,
The key would unfold
Like the light-headed feather,
It mimics, in pace, my fearful soul.
Let bygones be bygones,
As for now, my door is open.
If I should fall, I will learn.
For no longer will I die in your scorn.