The Third Door
Like spikes, they pierced into my flesh,
On the old scars trickling blood fresh,
The cold, thick, red and sticky blood,
Dripped the creases, causing a flood,
The stench of blood then mixed with sweat,
As blood trickled down my arms wet,
My urge to throw up it triggered,
It'd worsen my odds, I figured,
Of fleeing this eternal despair,
To lose power, I did not dare.
Felt, I'd been hanging on for days,
My arms being roasted while ablaze,
The pain ebbed into new numbness,
From pain, 'twas a pleasant recess,
Wished forever the numbness stayed,
Of the pain as I grew afraid.
Two doors, I could see them ahead,
One pure white while the other red,
To Heaven, one would lead me,
Badly the other would bleed me.
I wasn't sure, which door to knock,
Whether die and this pain I block,
Or suffer till ceases the clock,
Between choices, felt my brain rock.
An angelic voice then I heard,
A third door to me it offered,
Life in heaven, it hid behind,
Red hot nails the knob, did they bind,
Pain rewarded by paradise,
Not choosing this, I saw unwise.
With a final gather of might,
I then chose to escape that plight
With the thorns still stuck in my skin,
I gave the knob a quick hard spin,
My skin hissed with my palm around,
The hot nails, and my skin was browned,
Bit my tongue, to contain my wail,
Pushed the door with a quick exhale.
Felt the air around myself change,
I was contained by a power strange,
I could see the life in paradise,
I was glad that I paid the price.
Standing there stronger than before,
I was glad I chose the third door.
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