Honey Locusts
No one is coming for you; not even the moon cares about you even if you stare at it every night.
Of sand is made this path, full of creatures that would eat everything up if they cross their way.
Each step is crucial. It’s an unknown territory, not made for open hearts, but the wicked ones.
Taken must be all the turns and thorns to escape the maze and build up a limestone castle.
Walls so high that they touch the clouds, impenetrable. With a garden that is full of honey locusts,
Thorns will hurt at first while walking through it, but they can become armor for the sensitives.
The pain has to be faced until every tear has dropped and every shout has left the lungs.
Emotions can’t rule the castle; it would become one with the path, made of sand.
The Sun will be incapable of going through the windows; it was never there for you, don’t let it in.
Shut every curtain, lock every door, become the ghost who terrifies the wicked ones.
That is the solution for that little girl, dreaming of being rescued from her living nightmares.
