label: The Doors of Death

The silent ghostly doors appear

with cold and ghastly sorrows

reminding me the time in tears

the path I did not follow

it haunts me through the lonely nights

and never fades away

its whistling and transparent white

surrounds me every day

and when I reminisce about

the time my love was near

the eerie doors loom closer still

and beckon me from here

beyond the hardships of this life

it calls for me to go

it coaxes me to end this strife

--to which I can’t say no

so with the slice of sharpened silver

the doors are splayed with red

and as they open, send a shiver

as I walk through the gates of the dead

Sources: Edgar Allen Poe and depressing tales

Ingredients: Constant isolation, dullness, and pain, regret, and guilt, and slightly insane.