The Door, I Implore

This hollow door


that creaks

and tumbles into richness

of fermented air,

it is living–

The stairs leads me into

its other world

one I pick up and listen

but I am not there

I am somewhere else

looking inward–

The depths of this world knows


for all the mechanical foes

drop their jaws

at the sight of my existence–

Mobility, excellence and novelty,

“are they just words?”

we ask, walking

right back up the stairs

to find the old world


for it is without murk,

and now, knowledge chases

the refinery of wild

into a brilliant, one accord–

Our bellies are full

conversation now calm

and our minds speak without


for in the trusted question

the gold key, hidden,


within the apple’s diamond


against our ceiling’s candle,

the only answer in time

has locked

stored away, behind

the oldest maker’s






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