from the memories of that once perfect palace.
It's smaller, still a big enough manor so that they
could all fit in.
All the hearts were now surrounded with so many
bad, mean, vicious feelings. A chaotic spiral of dementia
and hatred. Which of course can only end badly.
They all got settled in their new home sweet home, in their own way.
The master suite belongs to MKS of course, the first born,
the creative little soul, the artist.
She doesn't need much to survive besides those verses that tend
to drive her crazy once in a while.
The white walls shelter each rhyme, each line, her own feelings splashed
She also has a small bed, a must have for every dreamer, a tiny lamp and a desk facing the
window. The view though used to be much more inspiring before, well that's what we have now.
" Mk are you there? Over ...
Mk, do you copy? Over ...
I'm here dear, come closer..."
To be continued....