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The gate is open
I'm sure I closed it, again.
Passageway hard and bare.
A gate seems mocking
To let me see, to be seen,
Closed off, yet not.
Like a path offering a choice
Begin, to enter
Or end, as exit
The gate swung which way?
Yet the gate evites visions of a prison
Even closed lays bare my secrets.
Mortered blocks and stones
The path stamped smooth
Crafted inhumanly by human hands.
Cruel inprisonment under a bright sun.
No comfort there
Or solice in what little shade
The archway provides.
No, I won't draw near
I won't pass through
Or go back
Never to return.
If only that gate would stay closed
Relieve me of that pain.
Lie and say I didn't open it, again.
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