A door, a metaphor,
Ajar for a wayward journey’s end
Through time and sinister space
A soul lumbering towards no end
Yet passing through the portal
A rift in time of terror shut
Behind the space once held
A door ajar and alluring.
A door, no more,
The light once bright all but faded
And the voices silenced — mute
Legs weak and spirit lumbering
Yet searching for a final answer
Beyond books and binders
To the sole surviving question
Of guilt.
A door, once ajar and alluring
Thought to hold the final key
To the way out, away from all
Menace and morbid life dramas
Left beyond the rift of the unspoken.
With eventide approaching
Shadows move across barren lands
A lost soul lumbering
Towards no end.