The four doors
Since ever followed by tears and pain,
the tired steps of every wanderer,
along streets or paths the lonely rambler
keeps stony splinters in his heart.
Yet mankind got a precious gift,
for every one got final shelter,
promptly helped, no delay,
by one of the doors, as comes below.
The first door bears Sleep as name,
takes pain and terror from the mind,
hides and protects, calming tremors,
but untamed are fears, once awake.
Second, Oblivion, screening memories,
mutates short moments in single points,
quickly disappearing, but constantly
transfixed in rapt attention.
Then Madness extends it's arms,
greedily harvesting the uttermost essence
of your world, abducting hope
of rise and deliverance, until it's silence.
At last is Death, the last abode,
final place of those who fail at heart
to live their life, though it's sad,
and only deem it black and grey.
Four the Doors, only ways out,
four the paths, it's up to you;
are new experiences worth the risk,
or better get lost in