The Great Stone Hall of the Dead

In the dream I was there again Standing in front of the Great Stone Hall Of the Dead Lost Souls of long ago And again I was drawn to the huge oaken door That led inside to its dark nightmare Untold to the world as it turned by I asked myself the same question But again received no sane answer For the Great Stone Hall had stood forever And kept these answers close within itself In its time that was perpetual and unhealed When I knew I was not the chosen one. © Paul Warren Poetry