PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You're standing there,
Still and non-moving,
As you take deep breaths,
Because you're strength is about to be put to the test.

You're eyes are closed,
You're composure tense.
You're wondering, 'Can I do this? Am I ready?"
You take a step forward, easy, steady.

Your hands touch the door,
You stop for another moment.
You take just one more breath, slow but deep, uncertain,
And you move, once more.

You push them open and step inside,
You open your eyes.
You're hands fall to you're side as you stare,
At the sign as it reads, 'Keep going, if you dare."

The world you stepped into is dark,
A scene of silence and despair.
It's a battlefield of destruction and loss,
A scene, that, no one could bare.

There is bones laid abandoned on the ground,
With swords standing up tall to meet the air.
The wind carries the scent of blood,
As it mingles with the dead grass and mud.

You feel the ache in you're chest at the sight,
At the death all around you.
You feel the tightening of sorrow gripping your heart,
Tearing you apart.

You swallow back the pain,
And glance once more at the sign.
You know what you have to do,
Something that you already knew.

And continue forward, past the bodies,
Towards the path ahead.
Its long and narrow,
The ground is rough and hollow.

With each step you get closer,
Until you come to a stop.
You're face to face with a doorway,
In bold writing, are words, you read what they say.

"To open a door, must thee be true. Shall their heart reflect evil, shall the door not budge. If thy shall walk with compassion in thy heart, shall the door open. Thy shall not pass through unless thee is worthy."

You're eyes cast down,
As you look at your hand.
Hands that have never been stained,
That of blood from another.

Yet you are unsure of yourself,
As you place that hand to your chest.
The question from before repeats, strongly,
'Can I do this? Am I ready?"
Its time to put that to the test.

You touch the door cautiously,
You're heart beats at a normal pace.
Suddenly you hear the words that you've grown up listening to,
Ones that were true.

'Evil will never leave. Its a stain that can never be wiped clean but there will always be good that will forever over-power it. I want to believe there is good in everyone, a little bad to, in me and even in you. Its something we can not avoid but there's a saying that the coldest of hearts can be reached with compassion. That's our humanity, our ability to love those who don't deserve it, to show them forgiveness when others would shun them away. Good. That is what defines us from the bad. That is a pure heart.'

Suddenly you know where you stand,
You know that, if anything, your intentions are good.
That you're heart beats for the right reasons,
And always has.

Not another thought as you open the doors,
As you run forward.
You're hand comes to block your eyes,
You're surrounded by harsh light.

Its warm and welcoming not like the first door and you smile,
For you know you were worthy.
You fall to your knees and cry,
Because you made it, each mile.

You're eyes are blurry from tears,
But as you look up you see a different sign.
You can't help but let out a sob,
At the truth of what is written:

'The heart is a mysterious thing. For it trust's easily, it loves freely, but it can also become corrupted. Only when it cares for others shall it continue to stay pure. Only when it stays free of selflessness and deceiving can it be of worth.'

You feel your happiness grow,
Because somehow, you know,
That your heart will never stray,
But continue to beat pure.
Now, you can say you are sure.