Traveling back a long and weary day
After tackling whatever situation life throw can at me
Finally
Deep in the heart of smoke town Louisville lays my refuge
My Home
My Fortress of Solitude
But Not the house it self
Although it is the home that I treasure
But among those old rooms in the ancient house is the Fortress. It Begins behind yellow curtains laced with flowers
Beyond those curtains is the Fortress, although modest and not that spectacular on sight
Beneath the bed in the Nike shoe boxes, and in the giant container beside the bed, and in the clear drawer next to the stupid box
Are stories of great American Legends. Legends of heroes, either from the mysterious sea of stars or from the darkest ally in any crime-ridden city
But not only is their scripture of legend
There is also the collected works, pictures, documents, memorabilia, and trophies from my past Adventures and feats
And the whole fortress is only lighted by a lamp that sits upon a small table beside my bed
It is a fortress that I have tried to make my own
A fortress that shows a love for stories
Legends
History
Knowledge
And Self-worth
With-out trying to look like a hoarder of course.
It is a fortress that has grown-up adapted and evolved along with me since the age of 7.
And everynight I sleep warm, secure, and in Solitude with my thoughts
And soon I sleep
Along with with my Fortress of Solitude.