The Door

Beyond the walk there lies a door

Past the door are many more

It stretches beyond what we can see

Until we find eternity

 

The door has paint for many eyes

The colors blend and sometimes blind

They make up shapes and symbols for all

Creating fate and making thralls

 

There are those who focus on the door,

and others on where lies the floor

It matters not how you turn the handle,

nor whether you were quite the vandal

But what you do when that circles turned,

who you were and what you learned.

 

 

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