Oct 25 2010
Winding Staircase
My hearts a winding staircase, I am climbing every step.
Every beat, another stair. Me taking in deep breaths.
I climb every stair, I finally reach the top.
Now I’ve reached my goal, now I can stop.
But as I open the door into my soul,
the room is empty, dusty, cold.
No light or warm to banish the chill,
on the table is our loves will.
A bottle, empty of ink, rests by the will’s side.
A picture of our wedding, you the groom, I the bride.
The picture is from much happier times.
I still remember the crystal wedding chimes.
But that memory is old and dead,
I pick up the will, the paper blood red.
I leave these words for better times…
“Never trust the wedding chimes.”
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