Housed
In a desolate space
The world freely turns
In the colors of spite

My refuge groans
Sorrowfully
Far-gone in age
As the world
Intrudes and calls

Drawing my feet
To the fall
A frightful decline
And the rushing
Certainty of awe

I am joyously bound
To bask in the open
To reap every morsel
These roads
So kindly bestow