⁓ The Escalier ⁓

- I leave them all behind -

I settled myself on the bottom step of the stairs,

A breeze of nostalgia quivered through my hair.

All reflections glared from the sour olden core,

Bombarding me with a bitter touch of sore.

I felt the crowded beauty of the guilt,

The coldest heat that never… ever built.

From trauma that emerged and grew,

A soul so cute, in whispers, it would strew.

The aptitude to embellish guilt is pleasantness.

The instinct to absorb heat is awareness.

Release all laments from the innermost mind,

Then, darkness from the nightmare can be an alibi.

Amid all those perspectives within my thoughts,

The internal conflicts upsurged their course.

Once the subconscious battles come to peace,

At the top of the stairs, I am there... free and at ease.

AEIOU-Ja