Empty Room

Writing poetry is very introspective and very personal.

Opening a hallway door
I walk into a crowded room
sunlit from the corridor
I gaze on dust, nothing more
it feels as though I'm walking through
an empty room; no me or you

Leaving where my minds secure
I fancy places I may fare
a lighthouse in calm demure
tethered scenes are soft and pure
I come back here alone to share
an empty room; no desk, no chair

Peering on a beach sincere
to wander in my reverie
where sand and waves spied appear
given sea gull's cries to hear
returning from tranquility
an empty room; no shore nor sea

Visions run emotions blind
embracing idealistic foes
writing with escape to find
vivid truths and dreams entwined
imagining returning woes
an empty room; no verse, no prose

Will night bear me far away
to heed amid departed dawn?
though I keep in mind today
tomorrow's where my thoughts may stray
avenging remnants tempered on
an empty room; no rage, no calm

Torrid, timid, storied scenes
are brought back to jaded eyes
eternal views call deceit
and enter into weighted dreams
examined reasons as to why
an empty room is truth, no lies