It was a bright, blissful day — just like every day —
When I started on my stroll near the Gate.
My family was laughing, the birds were all chirping,
And I – me – myself — felt just great.
I asked my Father for permission
To wander through the forest — off on my own.
He peered up from His Book – which He always took –
And informed me that He would read while I roam.
The smooth, metal streets–they were glistening.
The warm, pleasant light — it followed suit.
The clear, sparkling water shone like crystals,
And the trees nearby were ripe with fruit.
The zephyr’s caress was sweet as it blew by my feet
And I sighed with relief into Space —
When I perceived a small cry – To my utter surprise –
Of a lost someone — someone pleading for grace.
I walked ‘cross the grass – I tried to move fast –
Before ducking below bushes to hide.
A man was shaking the Gate at a quite frantic rate –
But I knew it was locked from the inside.
The man, I observed, was not old –
And his mannerisms seemed a trifle weird –
But what stood out the most, as plain as a ghost,
Were the feelings he felt – he feared.
I gathered up courage and approached him –
His eyes grew wide as he exclaimed,
“Thank God that I’ve found someone else here –
On this crazed and desolate plain.”
“I’ve been walking for what seems like ages,”
He continued in a soft, sensitive sputter,
“Do you have food to spare — way over there —
Where your folks feast on warm toast and butter?”
I pitied the poor man’s condition,
And thus went back to my mat —
I returned in a flash with his wish,
And he greedily gobbled the snack.
While he was noisily feeding at present,
I asked him a question of past –
To which he replied with a look most unpleasant —
Staring — fixated on me — completely aghast.
“Please tell no one, I pray,”
— He was nibbling on his bread cautiously —
“I flee from the cops, who will pull out all the stops
Just so they can beat and arrest me.”
“I don’t know what rage came over me
After finishing my fifth round of beer –
But I swear it all was an accident
When I hit her…and her blood smeared.”
“I got out as fast as I could,
But the police trailed swiftly in stride.
I swerved and I swerved ‘till my car hit a tree,
Forcing me to get out and hide.”
“Oh please, sir,” he tearfully requested
As soon as he had ceased to eat –
“Can you open the Gate, for that water does bait
Me to soothe all the sores on my feet.”
In truth, I felt all of his sorrow,
But I calmly declined his plea.
I told him he was a criminal, and, even if I wanted to,
I possessed neither key nor authority.
I was met with a sneer and a snarl,
But he concluded with a terrible gasp –
My Father appeared – whom I never did hear –
And seized the ragged wretch in his grasp.
“You malicious miscreant, you,”
He bellowed in his grand, booming voice –
“What you did to her was your own doing,
And the sin was your sin by your choice.
I was reading my Book peacefully,
When I noticed your name was not mentioned.
So begone! You are not welcome here!
By drunk delusion your soul is condemned!”
He tossed out the miserable rogue,
Who was immediately snatched up in hand
By Satan’s foul, beastly minions – all on a mission
To escort this villain to the valley of the damned.
This scene was so disturbing,
Yet I still watched them fly off with that soul.
I quickly glanced at my Lord – His spirit seemed torn –
As he led me down streets of gold.
“My son,” he tenderly whispered –
His sadness was hard to behold –
“Stay away from the Gate, for beyond it is hate
Of which only I must bear to witness unfold.”
I replied, “I love you, my Father.”
He assured me, “I love you, too, son.”
He then carried me back to our picnic –
As if our day had just begun.
I avoided the Gate, like I promised,
And that horror soon left my head.
Woe felt like a dream, the same as when I was received
At that Gate that opens for the dead.
Morning's Early Dark 