Empty walls, for an empty house,
My soul needs calibration...
Past a door, thats been locked before,
I scream with no hesitation...

A closet full of wooden hangers,
hold my skeletons past sensation...
Pushed to the side, a treasure lies beneath,
I kneel, its locked, another complication...

I shut the door, and proceed to the kitchen,
It's quiet, empty and Hot, like my mind is in desolation.
An open fridge... showered with food and drink,
I reach only to grab nothing, it was merely a hallucination. 

Angry, and traped, I must find this key,
"It will be ok"... my heart adhears to it's own quotation...
Now in the living room, I search High and Low,
I can't find this key, so my faith bleeds and goes to dissipation...

The door opens and my bedroom appears before me,
Same as the living room, it just seemed like a stupid continuation...
I give up, slaping my hips, feeling something poke me
I reach in my pocket, a nickel, damn a false sense of consolation... 

I get on my knees, and do prayers to the ol mighty one,
I ask a question, he gave me an answer, I have no more aggravation...
I open my eyes and there's the key,
I'm joyful and amazed, that he just wants some adoration...

The answer he gave me, was that I had the key,
Laid within my heart, and my soul was off it's approximation...
I open the closet and unlocked the chest,
Colored in thought, my prize aquated to my own souls salvation...

Thank you Lord, because we all need calibration...