I then through love's parlour stumble
Grasp at keys, now clanging-fumble,
Drop them on the dusty floor.
Hands now through the dust are sifting,
Broken remnants, gathered lifting,
None a key will fit that door.
Cobwebs clinging like a tether,
Rusty handles aged by weather,
Sealed so tight as sealed for ever..
A coffin now, this room I'm in
Through keyholes peer, remembering when,
Doors seem opened,
slammed shut again.
