In the room of sky lands,

A waste land lurked below

In the room of camping,

I saw people eating s,mores  and making fires.

In the room of fish,

By night we had a feast.

In the room of mountains,

You saw clouds and tiny trees.

In the room of fire,

My blood turned into lava.

In the room pencils,

When you talked pencils as tall as houses drew the words.

In the attic of eyes,

I felt like I was being watched.