Tormentedskye
New member
There is silence in this house.
Where anger hangs thick in the air.
Every line designed by an impossible mind,
And on a weak foundation.
Behind every door lies resentment.
Trust cracks under pressure,
And the door bell is never pressed.
Home is where the hell is.
An imposing fortress of aspirations,
Crumbling under the weight of dreams.
And windows crying “open” much too loudly
To stop for air.
Where the stairway always descends,
And cobwebs act like shackles,
To hold you in contempt.
You may never leave, but lay down your heart.
You may never speak, but scream freely.
Build up walls to keep every one safe, but you.
Sound exudes from every crevice,
But it’s the silence that’s deafening.
Where anger hangs thick in the air.
Every line designed by an impossible mind,
And on a weak foundation.
Behind every door lies resentment.
Trust cracks under pressure,
And the door bell is never pressed.
Home is where the hell is.
An imposing fortress of aspirations,
Crumbling under the weight of dreams.
And windows crying “open” much too loudly
To stop for air.
Where the stairway always descends,
And cobwebs act like shackles,
To hold you in contempt.
You may never leave, but lay down your heart.
You may never speak, but scream freely.
Build up walls to keep every one safe, but you.
Sound exudes from every crevice,
But it’s the silence that’s deafening.