Unshed

Was only yesterday this place was flush,

with the open delight of bestowing charity.

The sky was the hew of loyal and true,

the landscape filled with the songful bloom.

Day or night the comfort may hush,

within this eden of ongoing familiarity.

The gate lay open for all to subdue,

and thus began the glory of gloom.

 

The crucible has founded its fervor of pain,

only to warrant the constant reminder.

The dust and toil to scour the surface,

has now found a newly desired.

The walls were always the ones to obtain,

the sanction of power so quickly to hinder.

Polished to harden the cautious coldness,

only to pursue an endless admired.

 

The cyle continues uncessingly aware,

for the end to this havoc is just out of reach.

Quakes and cyclones create from the beast,

only to fall in the desperation bled.

Iron, stone, earth, and air, 

are all left for the depths to teach.

To open again will take all the least,

to hold within that which is unshed.

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

This is about how in my mind when I am happy things seem so perfect yet when my heart is broken my mind becomes chaotic and desolate. How I build walls up to prevent it from happening again but yet I continue to seek happiness and contain my emotions in as best I can.