IRC-Galleria

Isolated from all of you
Like through a fog, some hundred years old
From a past life I hear a tune
A piano melody, hauting and cold

Drops of water on old glass
A window into a home
Not from this world those empty hallways
Everyone is gone
Curled up paper on the walls
Spotted, ripped and torn
Dust of ages flows in the air
Here a life was born

No sign of parents, mother or father
No-one to keep you safe
No door to use to get out of here
Boarded-up windowpanes

Empty and forgotten I wonder
How did I end up here
The creepy old music makes my mind crumble
I feel the end is near

Then the melody ceases to play
And I'm simply no longer afraid
And the past is not where I should be
And that life is not what I should see

---

(c) Juho Tuovila 2007-2008.

Sellasta. :P