And I closed the door behind me,
As a denial to the truth (in vain).
What I needed was her hand in mine,
What I held onto was my own pain.
I waited for her all my life, but,
Never told her, now she can never know.
I wanted to break, I wanted to feel,
But was left with no reason, life or soul.
And then I knew I had finally reached home,
When I felt her fragile grip on my palm.
And saw the rigid lines of her face,
In the crimson pool on the floor.