don’t open the door to strangers.
you never know what lurks outside.
that savage soul that sings and soothes,
may not belong to you.

the ringing in that symphony,
may not belong to that you see.
the sounds that lure the weak you feel,
are rarely born from any real,

and if, so what?
a part of you.

that’s all there is.
a part from you.

nothing you haven’t lost before,
ignore the squawk of nevermore,
if life was lent from literature,
the end of this I’d know for sure.