The Complex

This cold palace is so inviting Biting at my lip like an anxious lover I hover to it Gliding to the blood red doors, I feel a sense of excitement The grass is aroused by the brisk whisk of the breeze as it cuts through me evenly I feel scared I stare at the doors They glare back Attacking my confidence But it’s evident that this dark complex wants me to enter It’s cold, empty, dark and lonely If only I could change that I push the doors open and step in Within revealed what most would consider a morgue I would call it home A sanctuary dressed in red, black, blues and purples Tattered in agony I walk across the black marble floor The belly side of a room that resembles Hell’s Ballroom The doors across the way come to life from the excitement of my arrival The revival of the complex puts them in a mood of anticipation Its obliteration from society left it in a state of comatose But a dose of curiosity courses through its walls and brings it to life again Like an adrenaline shot to the heart Apart from the pulsing palace, I approach the doors Feeling curiosity coupled with reluctance, I open them Revealing a dark hexagon of a room A tomb for my indulgence I sit in the center of the room I close my eyes and feel the complex and its velvet heart I start to feel something more It’s me I have found myself Not knowing quite what it was at first Dark, cold, empty and lonely But now I understand this is me And I will never forsake it as it has been before Sore and swollen from neglect I’ll elect it into my iron coffin Then blanket myself in the dark self-realization of what I am and what I’ve become