Sides squared

My dark room has a vivid energy to it

Though subtle but rather unmistakable

I can sit in the center of this place and cry

It hides my life and dampens my sighs

The walls are a mosiac of a mural painted

Often to have been shattered and rearranged

The pieces  are too tiny to hold now

For they are shards that cause bleeding aches

The floor is a lovely bright black granite'esque 

That drinks my tears and never has quaked

I built this dark room to be alive once

I realize that was my first terrible mistake

But I fret not for those who have often sent

Wished me to spend time in here and reflect

For I see life bears no meaning anymore now

So I'll sit till it becomes my tomb somehow