Cocoon

I am warm,

Wrapped in the shell of my own thoughts,

Spinning and weaving, colours and shades,

Windows and doors, broken and sealed.

I am home,

Tucked under my own mind,

This is my own fortress, my own stands,

This is my freedom and my prison.

I am close,

I feel the light and the shadows,

The moon and the half-light,

I can feel the rain on my window pane.

I must break free,

Its too tight, too close, too near,

I am stuck, wriggling, writhing,

I must get away.

I am through,

And i can feel the sun and the stars and the open sky.

I am free.

A Lock

A lock, rusted with time,
Who knows lies behind it what crime,
What dark hidden secret behind its shut eyes,
Behind its red teeth, what truths that it lies.

What treasures are locked fast behind its wood,
What could one have, what riches they would,
What jewels, what wealth, what knowledge left unknown,
What shadowy deeds behind it are sown.

With its black forever eye sinking into its head,
With the orange red socket for bed,
The call of unknown to the ones wished with greed,
The doubt that its mystery does seed.

If only I had its key,
Then what wonders or curses would I see?