From behind the door, I feel a breeze

A scent of living, that was meant to please me

From behind the door I hear a whisper as

Soft as a picture, carved from water

As I slide the iron plate below the handle

A shaft of light hits me like a million candles

I see the forest, a ballroom, I see an empty street

Like a thousand puzzles ready to complete





I see every colour and colours that aren't invented

I see golden medals that are yet to be presented

For the only time I get pleasure from torment

I cannot touch, I can only see

But the pure desire, to touch the living scent

But to open up the door, I need



I need the Key etc.