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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