Beneath the Godforsaken Gate

Beneath the GODFORSAKEN gate, the wind is low, It hums through iron teeth, a GROANING chord. The past returns in whispers cold and slow— A GHOSTLY dirge no mortal could afford. Its hinges hold the weight of GRAVE goodbyes, Where time forgets to heal the GRIEF-STRICKEN soul. Through GOSSAMER regrets, the daylight dies, And shadows learn to make the broken whole. No lock can close what memory unlocks, No stone withstands the mercy of decay. The gate swings wide like time’s unruly clocks, Inviting all who’ve lost their names to stay. Beyond this frame, what fate may orchestrate— All souls must pass one gate, though none may wait.