The Gate

There I stand, at the gate,
Hoping that soon is I shall be let in.
My heart, dried to the last fibre like kilishi,



With nothing left to bleed;
All I have is me.
At the gate I stood,
I once had hope.
My soul, lost with the wind of darkness.
There is nothing left at all.
They say there is a city beyond,
There I was at the gates; to the city of nothingness,
Hoping that all that was lost would someday emerge.

My body; weak, my mind;tired of waiting.
The burden of hope, Heavy in my dried up heart.
And so I began to wonder, ponder on how far I have wandered,
Trying to recollect how long I have been dead.
The gate, nothing ever comes through there,
Then it's occurred to me, even nothing is something.

So I turn around,
Away from the gate that has once given me hope for nothing.
The horizon looked faint, the path rough, the journey long. 

The end! Near.