I walk a hall of doors.
They line endlessly left and right.
A corridor, an opening, a closing,
A beginning and an end.
I look ahead at these doors.
Doors left closed, for they are the future.
Behind me, I know the doors are different,
Some open. Some closed.
Open doors I have explored many times.
I know those rooms by heart.
Closed doors I remember little.
The keys left behind and my mind goes forward.
So many, many doors to open.
They beckon to me more...
Calling my name, pulling at my heart,
My future awaits... I reach for the door...
Written by M. White(Jseathl cool September 21, 2000.
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Journey of the Archangel...Let it be something that maybe someone out there can understand and let it be real for them. Be it through poetry, a story, or just a simply log entry...let the words speak to you....hear them, for they are there for you.
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