House Of Lost Dreams

Laying here,
As this voice drums its way into my mind,
Poisoning this bread and this wine.

I cover my ears to the symphony of the sirens,
Hoping it will go away,
And trespass my heart with this knife,
Offered to me time and time again.

Running out of blood to shed
In this empty house I so proudly built,
Now full of haunting rooms,
Footsteps of people long gone.

Through the cracked walls that stand as proof of history,
The wind, blowing away the dust that instinctively I try to keep,
Renews the stale air
And allows me to smell the gardens nearby.

So I drink the rain dripping from the leaking sealings,
Suck these tears back inside
And play the music that will smother this silent laughter.