Home

Oh readers,
Oh listeners,
Oh figures of glee,

I tell of a home
inside of me.

It has no windows,
But has one door.

It's all that is needed;
We need no more.

                Inside

Something you've never seen.

No love,

Or light,

Or beautiful sheen.

It's different;

I know.

Much different

Than yours.

But one must own

Their own home

And not be mad

At what they're given.

This place to stay safe
Will only remain
Until its 

Lonely

Beating 

Cease.

And there it went.

So easily spent.

By a lifetime of living

With 

NO

release.