The Stone Cross

I sleep on a cross for my madness

I exist within a foundation of stone

Encircled and smothered within bars of rust

It all helps me rest within a confine of serenity

Sealed windows and doorways feel like decrepit paintings on the walls

Pieces of immovable art grow an everlasting flavor of neglect and dust

An existence within a casket to bear the living

My humble and delusional confine