Chambers Of The Heart

Walls without the echoes of love
the chorus of confessions
or the symphony of laughter
are merely a morgue of existence
where silence is the sadness
for all the secrets suppressed.

In the chambers of the heart
those melodies are sung
they comfort and caress
while encouraging dreams.

Oh is there really a home
if one feels enclosed and trapped
just bonded out of habitat
never truly free to fly.

Within the sanctuary of the mind
where one truly lives
there is peace and harmony
of being in that oasis from the world.

And then we sleep in the rest of embraces
touched and nurtured in the soft accolades,
truly feeling so comfortable
releasing the wounds of the soul
unto ears that you know will listen.

How easy it is to feel that void
when an address is your residence
lacking the glow of understanding
from those who show shower you with love,
it is a cold, still darkness even in the light.

But when those heart walls are cushion,
cared for till they nearly glow
beyond the front door
becomes a vision when you are gone,
ever anxious to return
unto the arms that make you feel special.