Standing solitary,
close to the
wall.
looking at the patterns
just like pirouettes
dancing floral arrangements
sprawled across these custard
walls.

These
walls,
like yellow cells of my
heart.

These
walls,
like passageways
through the darkness.
flickering candle light
shows the evil
hidden in our time
But time is a different story.

The wooden doors
open
and sunlight pours
into the darkness
licking the pain away.
Tears flow into the streets
and tears are the only escape.

Demonic patterns
in our
conversations.
All from
LOVE to HATE.

But oh,
these custard
walls.

I retreat back to
indecision
and
war.