Am I scared, or am I a fearful adventurer
Faced with an avenue of unmarked windowless doors?
Is it a test, or simply part of the game of life,
Knowing I'd have to open at least one of them
To have any chance of getting on or getting out?
Should I open them in some specific order,
And what if having opened a door there was no choice
But to go through that door and deal with what
My choice, my destiny, presented to me?
What if I was helplessly sucked inside?
Then I realised that this could not be new.
I could not have just arrived in this place
I must have got here from somewhere else!
So I am sure that in the beginning I had no fear
Of what might or might not become exposed.
It certainly is a two-way journey in any case
For what lies behind the door is ignorant
Of my very existence: Person, place or thing. Amen.
And now, at this very moment, when I fear,
I question how many doors have I already opened?
What if I open a door and step into another
Avenue of similar doors I'd have to choose from?
This could be some kind of interminable hell.

© Griffonner 2025