I’ve been in this closed room for seven days
and seven nights, staring at the blank square
of depictions surrounding me, the spinning
ceiling rotating in circular motions above
my shattered soul, the flickering lights flashing
in front of my lifeless eyes, the way the bare walls
seemed to stare into the inner existence of my being,
its deep shadows hovering all around my fallen tower.
I gazed outside the stained window at the silent streets,
where there were vehicles visible, the sleeping sun that had
turned down its sparkling glow upon the landscape, the restless clouds that came to a sudden stop in the azure sky. I could feel the shifting breeze easing into my empty heart through the open cracks of my window, the way it brushed up against me, trying to force me into submission, it’s slow and rising sounds echoing in my ears constantly.  I looked around the room at the sunken depictions in my sight, every part of my presence numb to the pain.