Rooms Of Ruin

I'd tossed around an idea for quite sometime about something someone told me a long time ago. He said that I'd built these rooms of comfort that I existed in, and that my way of dealing with the harsh realities of life was to run throughout these rooms in hiding... That image never left my mind and has appeared in various pieces I have written over the years. As I got older, I came to look on these "rooms" as my ruin. I always feel like I am trying to make my way out of them, but in the process another room appears...

“Rooms Of Ruin”

Blood
Drips from every word
Words
Flow within my veins
Again my pages stained
From the truth
And the lie
Of the darkness
And the shame
As I cry from the fight
Of what was lost
What’s to be gained
Sitting in my chair
Surrounded by walls of flame
Thinking of a way
To exit these rooms of ruin
I’ve built from day to day;
So many years in this labyrinth
With no more crumbs to guide my way
Ensnared
Within comforts of my mind
That worked the pain from day to day
Score the coat
Erect the pile
Again the page is stained
Blood of the lost
Tune of the fear
Another room of ruin appears…
©2009clarencecbess