The Doors

Standing upon the gates of oblivion

And peering into the distant 'to be'.

The landscape around me changes.

Those primroses, I loved them best,

Now lay trampled, beneath unwanted

Footsteps, unwanted memories.

I try to shut these doors, stood ajar

Since eternity. Resilent hinges creak

Their anger, uaccepting the change.

None have passed, nor are they welcome.

For these doors hold nothing but pain

And remorse, unwanting,uncalling.

They promised me sanctuary, these doors.

To be the sentinel, was all to be wagered.

Unyielding, a mask of frown, and a tarnished halo.

But still, the landscape changed, my sanctuary

Has become my asylum now.Shut these doors

I must, for dark and unwelcoming, they are.

I peer into the distant 'to be', the visage dense

And foggy. I throw away the keys for the fog

Is welcoming, soothing, unlike these cold hard doors

Of my past. And with a promise of a new dawn

I step towards the light. Those doors, skulking,

Mocking, seething behind my back, now lay shut...