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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1542633
The Armchair may be the symbolic chains of our soul
Watching…
Click, Clack
Slide_
The Door opens,
Revealing Nothing.
Staring from a armchair of red stagnant felt horror

Glimpsing…
Click, Clack
Slide_
The Door opens,
Revealing Nothing.
Rising from an armchair of statically charged restraint

Peering…
Click, Clack
Slide_
The Door opens,
Revealing Nothing.
Standing on a floor full of lubricated obstacles of progression

Observing….
Click, Clack
Slide_
The Door opens,
Revealing Something.
Walking on cloud full of hope served on an old wooden platter

Wondering…
Click, Clack
Slide_
The Door Opens.
Revealing Everything
Reaching out for doorknob with enchanted chills of future aspirations

Turning…
Click, Clack
SLAM.
The Door Closes.
Revealing Nothing.
Staring back at an armchair of red stagnant felt horror
© Copyright 2009 Trent Cross (trentcross at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1542633-The-Armchair