label: The Doors of Death
The silent ghostly doors appear
with cold and ghastly sorrows
reminding me the time in tears
the path I did not follow
it haunts me through the lonely nights
and never fades away
its whistling and transparent white
surrounds me every day
and when I reminisce about
the time my love was near
the eerie doors loom closer still
and beckon me from here
beyond the hardships of this life
it calls for me to go
it coaxes me to end this strife
--to which I can’t say no
so with the slice of sharpened silver
the doors are splayed with red
and as they open, send a shiver
as I walk through the gates of the dead
Sources: Edgar Allen Poe and depressing tales
Ingredients: Constant isolation, dullness, and pain, regret, and guilt, and slightly insane.
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