She stepped onto the silent stair,
Her hair undone, her shoulders bare.
The moonlight that shone down was where
The sky fell in, a sad affair.

The wooden steps she stepped on squeaked,
The cobwebbed railing cringed and creaked.
But yet her interest still was piqued,
She moved on still while wind still shrieked.

At the end of the endless flight,
Where dark was darker than darkest night,
And shadows stole every stitch of sight,
Forward she flew and fled from fright.

A dusty door was soon discovered.
Nervous nerves were soon recovered.
She opened the door and duly uttered,
“Well!” and in the doorway hovered.

The bitter room was bleak and blank.
The décor dwindled, drab and dank,
While shoddy floorboards skewed and stank.
She ran away from the reeking rank.

The second room proved prim and prime.
Decadent dancers danced on a dime,
While tiny toddlers teetered in time
To regal rhythm and rhyme.

The third room held a tiny door
More minute than many before.
Its smile its only stock and store,
It motioned for her to move in more.

Behind the door was brightness bright,
Much lighter than the lightest light,
And when she walked within the white
She realized things were quite all right.