House of Snow
In a bleak dwelling of snow and frost
In this house of white satinian floors
Betwixt the lunacies, dejected and lost
I am alone, burning, behind closed doors
Charred by my own cave-in, and lonely roars
—
Of a lone volition so simply mine
I feel the need to bleed and hurt, and freeze.
My sorrows leave me to myself unease
Left empty, above cold and wretched floors
In a facade of grace, of pain and sores
—
And to these walls of folly and self-doubt
Far away from spirit, from eyes and hearts
I’m again chained, lashed with hatred and doubt
To the glacial path forsworn and taken
To away from here, this house forsaken
—
A house of veins and blood, hurting and freezing,
This house of emotions and lunacies
This house of pain, this house of snow
—
Written By: Maxime S. Barthe
