Confessions

There used to be this fire in your soul

I could see it in your eyes;

You thought you would grow old

This sorrow said to you “lies”;

The fire was put out by streams of water

Slipping silently down your face;

Your foundation gave way, falter

This line, blurred by your fall from grace;

A prison cell is now your home

The rodents, your only friend;

Far too cliche to say “you’re not alone?”

Your sandcastles were knocked down by the wind;

Disappointment gave way to depression

Depression lends itself to isolation;

This pain became an obsession

Your obsession fell prey to desolation;

Home is where the heart lives?

Home has never been so cold;

I thought love forgives?

At least that’s what I was told.