Through the Door

Each moment that passes Is another small step towards death. - But what of that? This journey goes but one way And at its end, a door A door we all pass through, And a dark within, that none may see. All doorways are Adventures; Cross the threshold - Find what waits within! A boudoir, a tavern, A field of flowers? Tambourines and dancing, laughter Or, perhaps, just darkness. - If so, then a place to rest, among your friends! The joy of all journeying lies all in the traveling; All their ends are new Beginnings.