Messages from My Soul

The Door

A/N: dedicated to Sir Olan Smith. ^^ I was inspired by Poe's The Raven.

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THE DOOR

A door's in front of my eyes, yet I do not recognize

Whether I outside or inside does abide.

Whether locked in I am, or perchance, out,

Whether I'm in between or round about.

Whether I'm in somewhere or not, I'd cast a doubt

Or whether I do or not nowhere exist;

I know not where this trait'rous door might lead:

To the outer world, or an inner nook, to transcend or exceed

Myself, or whether this serves at all aught,

Or whether the door is a figment of pure

Imagination, or the perverse sort--I can't be sure

Whether hidden beyond something I can find.

I know not if the door is but a snare, a lure

To the foibles of an indecisive mind.

I know not where springs the curious lights

That from that door's tiny crevice emanate,

And neither would it be anything if I contemplate

How far from this I really am, from that beguiling gate.

It could be the Court of Heaven's glow

Or the taunting fires of direst fate.

But what am I to ever seek to know?

Yet what I wit and can tell, however,

Be it I'm in or out, be it that I was or's never,

Whether this door leads to the better place, or to hell,

When I ope this, whether I enter'd or fled, well,

What I think I can about which be certain

Is that the answer I'd never live to tell.