This room is closed.
I used to escape from the jail of routine,
I used to be locked too deep in my mind;
My thoughts are the room, which needs to be cleaned —
its walls have too many from past to remind.
This room used to be like my own time-machine,
my transfer from present to more pleasant past,
where everything wasn't so cruel and mean,
but lovely and calm — it's now full of dust.
I tried but I failed to escape once again —
I lost all my keys and lost my True path,
I failed and I can't just heal current pain,
so now I'm defenseless, attacked by my wrath.
So much I've been trying — there's nothing inside:
my shelter's fictitious and dreams are enclosed;
There're so many things that I'd like to hide —
I looked one more time, but this room is closed.
