Madera House

Outside whitewashed, pretty as it pleases,

Inside imagination hides from the fear and pain

But death never comes to those who pray

Living grows you old,No escaping as a young

Freedom only comes to the elder and not in mind

Devastation is here like a child playing hide and seek with a vicious animal

There are smiles outside, pillars holding up the heaviness in the mind

Inside, see the wreckage of a small soul

Innocence is a bloom that withers
in darkness