Locked room, locked door, forbidden to enter.
Gazing through the keyhole, I see nothing but darkness;
It calls me.
I brush past cobwebs in search for the key,
I look in drawers, in cups, on dusty shelves,
I ask my father of it's whereabouts, he says 'Promise me you won't go in there',
I promise.
I ask my mother, she says 'Promise me you won't go in there',
I promise again.210Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfEz0TYTR0Q
I ask my brother, he says 'Promise me you'll go in there' -
I promise, and he leads me to the key.
The golden, glinting key that is cold in the palm of my hand.
Curiosity is eating me alive, so I slide it into the lock, look inside
and I understand. Dust sheets cover furniture like shrouds,
but enough is left uncovered: toys strewn on the floor,
mobile hung from the ceiling, children's drawings hung on the wall.
Memories of a tiny coffin look up at me from the shadows,
my family's cries for their lost son echo to my ears.
Locked room, locked door, forbidden to enter,
and the only one who gave me permission
has been dead longer than I've been alive.
ns 15.158.61.51da2
