You enter the windowless room.
Grief closes and bolts the door.
You are alone in utter darkness.
Others, outside, beat upon their wailing walls
but you do not hear.
Time has no meaning inside this room.
Minutes pass like years until, one day,
a chink of life sneaks in,
bringing a tentative touch of warmth.
Soft voices hammer against the silence,
calling to be let in.
Cautiously, you unfasten
the self-indulgent safety-chain
and peer out once more
into a world still ceaselessly
turning around you, where loved ones
have been patiently pacing the floor, ready
to offer you the kiss of life.
© Marion Sharville