Whispers That Don’t Belong

As the sun rises up to brighten the day, its army of lights spreads the voices of joys. In the vacuum they sneak to the other side of many hollow walls, pass through shading curtain, friendly fill the room with rosy whispers.

In this room, by the window, peeking to the invitation, denying any resistances…

They warm an icy heart, flame frozen spirit. Touched by unreached ecstasy of seventh heaven, body liquid starts its buried flows, boils in the heat, ruptures out the vessel, spills over and explodes in tears, into the river of blood.

It is just not the place, it is just not the way, it is just not the time.

Blessed whoever befriend with them, but not inside here.