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The Door

I stand here on the brink, the gate

Awaiting still my time, my fate

The moment held in old youth’s eyes

Black robe, our long awaited prize

 

Sweet release from repeated wrong

Five days a week, extending long

For five Sol turns, now here we stand

To the face the world, the cage of man

 

An inch away; I turn the lock

The hammer falls; I hear the knock

Of age and think back on the past

Heart, hold these smiles and make them last

 

White smiles: young and wholesome and new,

Their limits yet to spring anew

The world seemed large, yet now so small

Compared to that behind this wall

 

I reach my hand to know the wood

Worn smooth and carved by those who stood

Before me on this cusp of life

Upon the fine edge of a knife

 

They, like me, have cut the trail

Listing ‘twixt, succeed or fail

They, like me, have faced the trial

And trodden down the lonely mile

 

And now we face the point of light

The Tunnel’s end, our own, in sight

And now we push upon the Door

This Portal to our distant shore

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Written by
nicholas-wong
Canadian
Published
Nov 24, 2011
Lines·Words
28·195
Permission

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