From my room, I can view the world.
I can explore the stars around me and beyond.
I can travel to lands upon which my feet will never tread.
I can hold conversations without ever speaking a word.
From my room I can see visions that no other man can see.
In this room the world lies before my very feet.
My room can hold the brightest of suns and the shadows of darkest nights.
Here I can find both peace and torment, love and hate, fear and jubilation. It is a private place, and though I have opened the door to few, no one has seen its entire content.
There are places in my room that even I fear to go.
Boxes, scattered and sealed, and best left unopened.
My room has no walls, but many windows. It\'s dimensions are unmeasurable.
I\'ve decorated my room in an eclectic manner.
The floor is made of pearl taken from the wisdom of the ages.
The pillows sewn from whispers, the softest ever known.
The bed is stitched from laughter.
The table is made from old love letters that were somehow never sent.
My pots are made of hammered gold, like the ring upon my finger.
The rugs are made of music and they fill the entire space.
I hope to never stop exploring my room, but I know someday the lights will shut off and all its contents sealed away forever.
Until that day comes, I hope to share my room with those who choose to visit. Some stay but a moment, others, a lifetime.