Door

Death impinging on the present,
Willed, dead set to take its toll
On me, recoiled, downward, measured
By the days' diminished dole.

Every ache a diminution
Of the destined plot perceived
To be a dead end, darkened, locked
With no escape door there contrived.

Every decade down a measure,
One of six feet, cold, before;
Closer now the gloom is gilded
'Neath the crippled curse, a Door.

Think, O Soul, whate'er befall thee,
Body fallen, locked at last;
'Tis a Door unlocked and opened:
Through, the severed soul is passed.