Miningsilver
Dungeon Explorer
- 43
- Posts
- 6
- Years
- Age 22
- The maze of my mind
- Seen Feb 7, 2019
Hey! Miningsilver here!
While I try and figure out what I'm doing with Survive Terraria, I thought I'd put this here. Just some random things that will pop into my head from time to time.
This one actually felt nice to write, just to juice out some pent up emotion for something.
While I try and figure out what I'm doing with Survive Terraria, I thought I'd put this here. Just some random things that will pop into my head from time to time.
This one actually felt nice to write, just to juice out some pent up emotion for something.
Doors and Rooms
Here I sit
In my room
Alone and free with plenty of potential.
Across from me are some doors
Only two.
One is painted blood red
The other a sickly green.
Sooner or later I have to go through one
But I don't want to
I know what's inside.
I enter the red one.
The room is obviously red
With some hints of purple oddly.
I sit down in the center and listen
I hear an echo from the room
The echo is like a vent
Constantly steaming
It's angry at the green door nearby.
And I have to sit and listen.
Because I can't go back to my room
The red will leak into there.
Soon I have to move to the green one
When I do it has hints of blue
But that doesn't change the sickly green air.
I can tell that it hates the nearby red door
No matter what I choose I have to let these rooms continue their echoes.
These echo chambers won't go away.
The only time I'm free is in my own room
Behind my own door.
I can see it's white light slowly turn gray
With each passing day.
My walls share that hue
I might have to too.
Here I sit
In my room
Alone and free with plenty of potential.
Across from me are some doors
Only two.
One is painted blood red
The other a sickly green.
Sooner or later I have to go through one
But I don't want to
I know what's inside.
I enter the red one.
The room is obviously red
With some hints of purple oddly.
I sit down in the center and listen
I hear an echo from the room
The echo is like a vent
Constantly steaming
It's angry at the green door nearby.
And I have to sit and listen.
Because I can't go back to my room
The red will leak into there.
Soon I have to move to the green one
When I do it has hints of blue
But that doesn't change the sickly green air.
I can tell that it hates the nearby red door
No matter what I choose I have to let these rooms continue their echoes.
These echo chambers won't go away.
The only time I'm free is in my own room
Behind my own door.
I can see it's white light slowly turn gray
With each passing day.
My walls share that hue
I might have to too.