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Been searching across every uncharted territory smudged on parchment Vanquishing the true colors of my room to a realm beyond cartography. Floorboards condescendingly creak as I pace in hopes of one coming loose, Leading to endless darkness far preferable to the scent of stagnation: Vanilla extracted of flavor, beans filling in those hopeful cracks So I am sentenced to isolation waltzing with madness... for a time. The jailer has received his payment, keys still swung out of reach Until their whispers savor the nectar of this supposed sanctum's god. As I let them in, lemons of the forbidden tree send sour tribulation Unable to brush the sweetness off my lips because I tell them all: "Just a little longer, I can see your smiles through cracking walls." It is time to face the warden, staring back through the jailer's keys Swept into my grasp to leave this personal prison deservedly desolate. We can stay running in circles so the truth remains kept at bay, Or we could step into the bay