Secrets behind the door

In the room of life,

I watched death crawl through the deserted cracks.

In the room of curious chandeliers,

I saw light dance through the magical diamonds and hide in the smallest of spaces.

In the room of serious secrets,

dreams faded and pasts told mysterious stories.

In the room of dangerous darkness,

brightness swept through the burnt ashes of the night.

In the room of pillows,

feathers sing silently as they fall to the soft cushioned ground.

In the room of beautiful butterflies,

cats roam through the streets waiting for the right time to strike.

In the room of the nature,

the aroma of flowers swallows you into a lake of a dark oblivion below.

In the room of time,

the past is one with the present and there is no future to be told.

In the room of books,

words cover the floor and when you speak, they waltz across the inky black pages.

Finally, in the room of death,

unfortunate stories are told and if you open this door your past will be forgotten.