The strong walls we build
protecting our private worlds
vestibules of our secrecy
compartments for our sanity.
Rooms, communal we share
costumed and clothed,
or private places secured by key
for our naked selves to hide.
Into our rooms we invite
guests to dine, friends to talk,
other doors we prefer to close
only opened for love or need.
Closed doors, lead to empty rooms
the air chokes with dust, growing cold,
cobwebs thicken as spiders prey
and fear barricades, we cannot admit.
Unvisited, vacate, and leave to ruin,
mould devouring wood, cracks in glass,
bolt the door, board the windows
walls fall to crumble, no home for a soul.
- Ciaran Burke