Sanctuary

Old and old
Getting older
Shining
In glory

The walls have done their job
The roof, a warning to rain
Outside, the elements rage
Much to their disdain

Inside the fire curls
While the air breeds warmth.
Prolific paintings
Show their all-being

The mirrors playfully mock
Their intent gazers.
The curtains expertly stop
Hate from entering

Inside, feelings breed
Emotions of dread
Outside, demons feed
On glee of the wed

Hide yourself inside
Let no one see you.
Make yourself within
A wall no one sees through

They'll eat you up, they will
Their claws and their hate
They'll kill creativitiy
Make your fear their bait

The fire's warm
And curtains rustle
In the inner breeze
Of peace

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This is one of the few poems that weren't stirred by some random emotion. I went on a trip to a city sort of near Maceió in Brazil and went into the hotel. I went into the room I was to share, and saw a drawing. It was of a house, and there was no background. Around it, there was just the white of paper, unwritten on. The house stood there so... peacefully, I guess. And I remember that a friend of mine asked me to write a poem when I'm happy, but since I wasn't exactly happy, I settled for the feeling "inspired." And I wrote this poem, about how peace is found inside yourself, where other people can't hurt you. If you give yourself to others, they can drop it and break you for all you know. Inside, things grow and live.