In the huge hall of yesterdays
I thought I was dead,
Before that fireplace,covered in spiderwebs.
Found empty bags below the bed,
Even empty bags of the fearful darkeness,
Leaking like eternal rain.

Punch and kicks
I felt it in my face.
So,I sharpened my knife
To save my life.
Though already late,
Half an hour,for a renting place.

And I saw myself
Walking thru mirrors,
With names on every bed.
Freeing the tears,
Of some thoughts in my head.


Copyright2007 Roshan Tulachan