Closed Doors, Opened Eyes

Closed Doors, Opened Eyes

Closed doors, opened eyes asking why for the simplest answer to the most difficult question there is.
Reminisce of memory thought golden, now tarnished and turned green like the color of the rotted moss that dreams become, black only in your mind.

The mincing of sugar and spice doesn't make everything nice that you are torn by your own fantasy alive to slither on the ground; making desire your strongest passion.

Closed doors, opened eyes that deny what you feel inside that pride is a broken violin string gutted from my cat.
Lies that you told cannot be known by anyone else that you seek a way to hide them away.
Pride is game we play hoping that he will stay just to say the unexpected things that sing out of tune.
Like a little choir girl whispering her alto melody of her song that no one appreciates but the empty talent.

Closed doors, opened eyes, which one do you choose, my lovely associate ?
That depreciates the value of the common word.
Chopping away the fingers that ply the lover with empty meaning that milking anger causes hate to grow like the demon of "Dantes" hell where I dance behind closed doors with opened eyes.