The Desk Lamp's Lament
You lay the shadows bare,
but inwardly, you bottle the meek light
that knows nothing of its source,
except it won't reveal, even if twisted.
"Lend me the ocean's shroud," it silently begs,
while it dreams of underwater steel sex.
The Iron Safe's Whisper
Rust blooms like secrets torn apart by the clawing static,
beneath locks of cold embrace lies soft truths,
hidden like musky memories veiled for eternity.
"How time wears us," whispers the damned cipher,
cradling its iron heart in forgotten arms, silently sprawls.
The Reclining Chair's Dreams
"Oh, to rest like waves curled in the moonlight!",
its joints creak a salty sigh.
Each cushion a sailor's tale, unnamed harbors entwined
within the linchpins' aging grain.
Secrets dry soaked in peaceful slumber.