The Corridor Poem by Marshall E Gass

As deep and rounded as the entrance
to a vast cave receding into emptiness
of the minds magic, the corridor stalked,
stalked the living and the lost with its presence

swerving into the undergrowth where
demons existed with magic potions
and mystical visions of an unknown hell
surrendered, we, to its vicissitudes
of wanton lust, nights of passion, ignoble strife
wandering in the mists of reason
searching for the souls location
in an unkempt place
where nothing reasonable existed
in this inferno of hate.

There was darkness, dense and deep
with screams reverberating
chilling spectacles of loss
as each one clambered over the others
mistakes
repeating the same, twice over.

There was a thin ray at the far end
and piecing the darkness like a
laser stab, this light found us huddled
in a network of nothingness
devoid of all senses, stripped of all sensation
afraid even to look at its glare
completely ignorant of who we were
or why we were located in this hell
of no mercy.

We searched for the ray, blinding
in its beauty, and we held on to it
like a rope of discovery
struggling to find its source
in some far off kingdom
where the electric, supernatural power of mercy
emanated endlessly.

Leaving aside all that we carried
as heavy baggage
materialism and magic
raging hate and loneliness
pain and poverty, injustice,
everything that weighted us down
in an unwanted space

we struggled free from the chains
that bound us to our greed.

God stood at the entrance.
He had no face
no necklaces of gold or diamonds
or even a loose garb
He had no blonde hair
no angelic eyes
nothing in fact
adorned in the scriptures
nothing man like in making

The entity stood there
clean as the light
and we surrendered in haste
at this complete abandon.

The corridor closed behind us
as we walked into the light
of day. This was the moment
when levitation made sense
and we rose up on judgement day
to face the consequences
of our actions.

Author Notes

A metaphorical meeting of Heaven and Hell.

Contemplation 8
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago