Wolfwood

A door to nowhere,
yet an entrance to eternity.
Why do they bother having hand rails?

Azure skies, night, approaches
as the sun retreats behind the horizon.
Why must their cat-and-mouse game persist?

Waves cease to swell,
content to become mere ripples.
Have they given up on grasping at the beach?

Colors reflect up at the sky
and meld together into happy hues.
Are they colorblind to one another?

In this place,
races are not won by the swift
nor battles by the brave.
Time and Chance play prince to all.
Why then do we bother opening the door?


(Any thoughts? I personally like this one alot.)

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We're nothing like God. Not only do we have limited powers, but sometimes we're driven to become the devil himself.