A Lonely Haunt

Cherubim did not play herald to my presence
Nor did Peter greet me at the gates
These gates were not crafted out of golden ore, or silver
But creaked a little, as the rusty hinge
Was bit by bit persuaded to swing open

I did not lie on trains of silver cloud
Nor see a light upon my voyage hence
No flight nor host of angels eased transition
The very metamorphosis of state
Was ascended alone – to what?

A Hand hath guided me to land of spirits
But none of these dread spirits did me greet
Within, without these gates is little change
A man, abreast of none, with knarlēd stick
Striving sans hope within a lonely haunt.

One thought on “A Lonely Haunt

  1. Its real good Mols x
    You used many literary featres, and the poem is quite catching.

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