At the Gate


At the Gate

Loved and unforgettable moments, minutes, and hours at the gate. At the Gate. The place is an incredible old, monumental garden of the past. I cannot determine the depth of this past. This place hides ancient history and destinies. It is a strange and wonderful feeling to walk in this place. A strange, cold consciousness surrounds me here always. It’s very clear and calming. But so cold, like a universal alien emotion. But it’s only really felt here. But I get this feeling at other times too. Far from this world. This incredible, otherworldly mood, impression, and mind follow me. Always. I love this feeling. It surrounds me, envelops my being. I feel it's love. But if this feeling is very strong, it turns into a deadly feeling. As if a living, but different world were speaking to me from death. This feeling of fear, of course, is an error of the sensors of my mind. So this interesting and not a human-like feeling is not a hallucination. Not a sensory error of my mind. Because my soul can not be compatible with this power. The human soul can’t process this force. This is alien life. The Alien.

– Lucifer. – Said Satan.

– His power. – A demon said.

– Yes. He is the Blue World. – Said Satan.

– My life’s desire is the blue life. The Blue Life. The Blue Life…

– You need to learn more. – Demon said.

– Lessons? – I asked the demon.

– Yes. Your lessons are your walks. Just here. – Answered the demon.

– Don’t go anywhere. – Satan said.

– Student, stay here. – Demon said.

– This is your cemetery home. – Said Jane. She died in 1884.

– Gate. – Demon Said.

The Gate. The gate. Behind me, my human life. In front of me, the blue life. Before me, the blue life.

I don’t want to live the human life. Perishable life. Not ever. Not never. Always. Funeral.

– The way is the gate. And this is secret teaching. One-step card. But you have all. – Demon said.

– All chances. The All-Chance. – Jane said from 1884.

At the Gate, I just standing. No chance. Nothing changing. Just waiting.

– Blue. – Said Satan.

– What? – I ask.

– Blue gate. – Said Satan.

– Where? – I asked.

– Step in. – Said Satan.

– The Gate. – Said a guard.

– Your way. – Said Satan.

– Go on. – Said a demon.

– Your own. – Said Satan.

– I love Hell. – I said.

– You are welcome here. – Said Jane.

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace