deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Cellar Door

The cellar door,            
the breathing floor            
that every poet keeps,      
        
In dreams alive;            
the other cross,            
for those that find the strength,        
            
Beneath the world,            
in quiet mind,            
where stones and statues speak          
            
There comes a time,            
you realize,            
the secret's far too deep,          
            
The human mind,            
it lay inside,            
the ocean's euphony,    
   
And how the fears,            
they recollect            
the candle's memory,    
           
And you were there,            
in darkened mind,            
in waters cold and bleak,            
   
The cellar door,            
the breathing floor,            
and nothing more is seen.
Written by Pishashee
Published | Edited 6th Apr 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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