with the clouds looming behind,
the storms soaking in
with the only one to find.
The mirrors on the backdoor
quake and wake and break.
The door opens with that key
for only the one that shakes –
a way in, a way out
out of this mind and into that soul
with quicksands of sadness running
through without paying the toll.
The 7 years of bad luck
and hallowed be thy name,
the beginning to the end
for the one that sought his fame.