Burgandy Room

In my burgandy room
with velvet curtains
and pillows of silk
near the underground railway,
gaping lions with flaring manes
and claws of iron
keep out all
with any hope of reprieve
from eternity.

Bright ladies of the night
reflected in silver moonlight
are my constant companions.

I want none of your world
of fear, deception and strife,
once was quite enough
so I happily made my exit.
I paid all my dues,
I owe God and the Devil nothing,
so I now rest in peace.

This burgandy room is cool,
no fool is allowed in,
no liar or thief or hateful person;
twenty-four/seven room service
supplies all my wants and needs.
In my burgandy room
jazz, blues and classical
is the only music played
and classical poetry
the only song allowed.
(And I have dozens of libraries
to choose from—and
the world wide web as well.)

In my burgandy room
I leave you living
with a single thought:
eternity is not all that bad
for there is no pain or guilt
or strife or fear,
only enjoyment
forever.

I like the first. two stanzas. You describe the environment in a surreal, but seductive, manner. The other stanzas lack the artistic quality of the first, two stanzas. If you re-write the last, few stanzas, and incorporate a few similes and metaphors, then this poem would be good. I like your, self-ingratiating hobbies. I think you have a good thesis for your poem, if you develop it a bit more. The thesis being that you can experience the world from your room without being tainted by the peripheral madness. Enjoyed reading your poem. I look forward to reading the next one!

Thank you for your comment. I'm going to rework the final stanzas and see if I can't make them as "surreal" as the first two.