The Great Gate of Death

The great ancient gate of death
silently swings open to let me in.
Alone, I stand, Dwarfed down to
the small size of an ant.
I stand, hesitant to delve in and
discover the dark secrets
death so dearly hides.
At times so daunting yet so inviting.
The gate guards the threshold
where life and death dare to mingle.
Where the wastelands are wide
and agony ample.
The wind whips through the air
just as the dark demons feast
on the flesh of those forced past the gate.
Those scared souls flee from their
once safe sanctuary.
Yet I shall pass past the
gate now, eagerly awaiting my fate.
I shall enter immediately
and so very willfully.
For the world withdrew
the great gales of goodness
that graces those who prance
around joyfully and those blinded
buy ominous optimism.
The punitive pain of lost love
so overpowering that I have
lost the reasons that
the legions like to live for.
So I calmly cross past the gate
daring the demons to demolish
my body and feast on my flesh
for the pain present past this world
can be no greater than the pain
plaguing me and slicing my soul
like a sour lime sliced
and squeezed on an open wound.