For the 'Gate or Gates' Poetry Contest of Constance La France
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“Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality.” – Emily Dickinson He can’t help feeling like he lives behind the gates of hell – a godforsaken place where ghostly thoughts inhabit his sad mind. Groaning, he envisions her smiling face. The specter of her will not go away. Grief-stricken since her passing, still he grieves. So difficult it’s been for him to pray, and each depressing thought inside him weaves a web of gossamer; he cannot flee. No fires rage in the gates of his own hell, for gloom and gray are all that he can see. But there is one good thing that he knows well: Until the day he dies, he must be brave until he joins his love beyond the grave.
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