Once upon a night I wandered
Queried deeply, questioned, pondered
Lay awake in bed, not dreaming -
All the while, seeming, seeming
to hold this letter in my palm
A thorny tongue with many prongs
I ask myself what none had before
all the while staring at a closed, blackened door
I ask if life is a series of notes
left under the door, the blackened door
Oh, if it is, I crave, yearn, live for more
The door handle, burnt amber, twists and turns
I stare as it opens
and my bedroom burns
Leaving only my skeleton, crisp and hallow
with the note on my tongue, ready to swallow
the words that were written so sweetly, simply
Even as my heart beats not and my wrists hang limply
I spy through these eyes that aren't turning, turning
a man in the door that was burn, burn, burning
He is cloaked all in red, not black, nor white
And I do see his face - with my half-melted eye
He does not reassure me, he lures me in
and I follow, words eaten, and question again.