The Door

The Door

Oh! how I long to see

an alabaster sky covered in a sea of clouds

on a rainbows edge

 

On the tip of the edge lies a door ajar

far away from miasmic eyes, not meant to see

the sights, hear the sounds, and smell the smells of a

a cool breeze across the windswept sand

and rollicking waves ebbing and cresting

on the sand sewn shore of the blessed lands.

 

As I take my last breath, I hear the roar of the sea

and smell the smell of lilacs and lilies…