The Safety of My Room

The world is a dangerous place

It is the days of coldness and isolation. The eerieness of suspense fills the aura. It brings forth inspiration.

But sometimes the isolation is too dark. And there is nobody there. The coldness keeps me inside. To remain in the safety of my room. How did the days become like this? Is it all because of me?

It’s late at night and I ponder this complexity. The unnerving silence in this darkness remains motionless. No reflection from the shadows. No answers beyond my walls.

Is there nothing beyond the safety of my room? Is it full of hurt and coldness? I could try to light a fire for warmth. But the blistering winds dominate frightfulness. It tells me to remain inside.

I cannot return to the days before my exile. I cannot look back to the days when the sun covered me As I dazzled in the grand palace. Is life just a snapshot of moments that never last forever? My kingdom was destroyed. Poisoned by potent rains. And left alone in the bleakness of my banishment.

The places and the people are no longer relatable. I cannot identify at all. It’s all a language that I cannot decipher. Here I remain in the safety of my room. Away from the dangers of the world.

The streets are always changing. But the names are the only thing that remains the same. I see the images of the outside. I can still feel the coldness. Observing the street from the safety of my room.

What is beyond this? As this ambition conquers me. Can I make it past blistering winds that try to keep me where they want me to be? Prowling through my doorway I made it to the outside. The conflict arises.

Staying safe or seeing what is in the great beyond. Is there another palace for me to reside my persona in? Do I shed my clothes and reveal my new fashion? Do I reveal the new me to the unknown? Is the world still a dangerous place?