The stairs, the walls, the people,
all that you could think is there.

Where are they going?
Why are they here?
You ask.

You find yourself in a place where
walls have doors and people are standing on a slant, walking up the walls.

The people go to their rooms,
to the hall
to the garden.

They are here for a party,
or an outing,
or a picnic

The servants are looked down by 
The people who look out
With a smug expression spread across their face.

The room with the wall on the sealing
The room with the stairs floating in air
The room with the mystery of a lifetime

The room is your heart.
With no where to go
With no one in side
Except maybe their is.

The Mystery Of A Lifetime