In my castle there are many rooms
built to inhabit a labyrinth of emotions,
an expanse where inspiration looms
subject only to my devotion.

 

Secure behind walls of protection
I stoke the raging fire that burns within,
warming my castle of inner reflection
as the past becomes my friend.

 

From stoic walls memories reverberate
bouncing off each guarded partition,
while closeted secrets congregate
with familiar apparitions.

 

Though for every memory of utopia
that exists in the comforts of my castle,
there sits a table with a cornucopia
of days w/which I wrestle.

 

Beautifully arranged as a decoration
accentuating the mystery of my mansion,
replete with candles in commemoration
of the skeletons in my sanctum.

 

Lest from the outside and looking in
my castle from within seems a royal mess,
placing all things where they blend
& memories form a royal crest.