Through the revolving door
The quiet is swift
In a blood-starved
Heartless gust

Beyond
Are crimson walls
Recklessly coated
In age old
Fits of despair

Heartache falls away
Ensnared in bliss
Crumbling
With all
We are meant to seize

In through
The revolving door
Time concedes
To a thunderous
And spiteful demise

Boxed away
Savored
In the arms
Of a faithful
And kind erosion