Room

I see a room
devoid of happiness
devoid of joy.

I see a room
completely swept clean
a stick and broom.

I see a room
where existed sweet love making
sweet nothings to the brim.

I see a room
filled with bitter spats
a knife and sword.

I see a room
where I once was
I now am
at the threshold I stand
I faintly hear the room say
but its echo is what I listen
Will it ever happen again?
He is my religion and me his pagan