Two eyes stare behind closed doors.
On one side, the light lived,
But on the other, only illusion.
Opening those doors and seeing no light,
Looking around, everything in their place,
He is completely alone, deep in thought.
Nothing could be worse than the silence
Conquering the fear of the solitude,
Filling the holes of a desperate soul.
The energy blew away at every breath.
Limbs grew heavier with the passing seconds,
Leaving him to lay under the celestial ceiling.
One by one, each section of him went away,
Shutting down and leaving for the night,
In the form of a controllable death.
Released from his reality of platitude,
He wanders into a painted reverie,
Formed by its sole inhabitant.
The creator knew that its perfection,
Copyright ©2004 Danny Caballero