Your Poetry Dot Com - Catacomb of Zen

Emotions locked in a padded room,
While your thoughts run the halls in a straight jacket screaming.
Cause the images in the mirror are not as one may assume,
While wearing a mask called weeping.

And the walls are decaying,
Of the house you built in your head.
But outside the birds are singing,
Despite the fact they're all dead.

Truth and lies in visions of your mind,
Of the child not there. yet you hear the cries,
Of someone left behind.
Are the departed in disguise?

And in this place,
As your sanity is dissolving.
Those with no name and face,
For you they are calling.

To come home,
And never age again,
In this catacomb,
Of zen.

This poem is Copyright © lonelywolf04