Narrow,  filled with colorful sticky notes, scented with rosy candles,

Draped by shabby shawls, and embodying the, 

Raggedy shackles  of the season, which

Dances across the grey borders that gleamingly transpires and

Blooms as though blue  transience is faded; yet it is still

Sketched as the scarred atrophic marks with nude mysterious coldness,

In her closet.

Series of trampled  untrampled events  transpiring but

The space pummels all odds, battering all foes

Unleashing loads of extinguishable  threats

In her closet. 

She remembers the horrors of the shade as she summonly chooses combat

Singing Psalms of David in the midst of all battles

All to be clothed with the mighty  armor of light even as she 

Chants enigmatic sounds that booms all around the tainted walls as though it shalln’t be heard,

In her closet.

The  bundles of marathon is soon reaped and she is reminded that,

“He that endureth is saved”

All in her war room.