Home ‘Sweet’ Home
To distinguish what we call home, we follow the guide from our heart’s compass. For all eternity to cherish the warmth and familiarity.
To rise and fall in the comforts of home – days blending into years as time seamlessly flows by.
Wondering down these empty halls…
Forced to watch myself as I slowly descent to madness…
What is this place? I thought I was home. Safe and sound in the comforts of home.
Some things I can’t escape from; it builds and builds, and I run and run yet no such luck.
Who
was I? And why am I here?
Fiction merged with reality as we reflect from the pure coldness of our live imperfect eyes.
The misplacement of a balance between two worlds – one which slips just past the edges of my fingertips.
To distinguish what we call home, we follow the guide from our heart’s compass. For all eternity to cherish the warmth and familiarity.
But now I’m realising that’s not always the case.
We construct how a home is made. The foundations are our guide to build upon our own love.
But without love and desire and warmth what do we have left?
A house is just bricks. Empty walls and empty rooms.
My forever home.
My Home ‘Sweet’ Home
