There is always a room, 

One room we wanted to be filled in

But possibilities can't make it happen

When it it is fated to be always empty

Cold it feels when the clouds are around

But the furies covered over

Surely makes the feeling warm.

Sweat-like aura when it is hot

But the breeze that sweeps past

Dries every sweat-like fight

Worries fries up hope

Surely it brings you out home

Expelled it would be for peace

And surely follows out of sleep

Everywhere there are walls

Wherever it would be

Your eyes will be set to those closed doors

Definitely your eyes will be on those swirls

And those little ears would listen to every noise

Every days are full of rumors

Seconds of minutes: floods of anguish sorrows

Night and day, always filled with harbors

Even in lightness there are those thunders

Feelings of the disclaimer:

 Yes I don't care.

 Oh, yeah, it'll pass, its just for a day.

 Definitely, I'm happy.

He feels not, nothing, nonetheless, empty

For its is filled with treasures

It is a beautiful room, nothing to worry.

Every thunder, "Its just a breath away." he says.

Surely those swirls?

Jut step on it and its gone

He always speaks of, "It's finally done."

Easy as always

No worries and "Peace!" with a smile.

Insensitivity is it?

Don't feel like having hardships?

No bothers, no frets?

And yet as the writer ends it,

How I wish, my room, this desire,

That I dream to be a nice, elegant room

Won't stay as it is until now.

-Anonymous