A passage Once Engulfed by an invigorating Sea of pitch Now transformed By the ceaseless streaming of sand To a cavernous crypt Harassed by light unwelcome Dank from the runoff Of stagnant pools Of thoughts outworn. Cracks and crevices obscure A multitude of doors - Each with its own black sea All but one with their own dank caves.
I search my pockets for clues gathered along the way - Reclusive bits of knowledge That burrow deeper to avoid my grasp. The slow ones I reach And they unwillingly reveal their prize Shrinking some doors, enlarging others. My choice is more limited now But still unclear. This is the final choice And I know I must choose carefully. I muster all my courage and open a door Instantly recognizing the fulfilling blackness Of a thousand other doors I have chosen. I step forward . . . And hope.