9th May 2017

At the end of the tunnel there was a door.

When the door opened,

I entered.

Isn’t it always like this?

A tunnel.

A door.

We walk through as though there is no other option.

We cannot go back.

We cannot lie down in the tunnel cradling the darkness.

The door beckons.

What is on the other side

we cannot see.

It is light.

The compulsion is to go towards it

as though the light is always welcoming

and the dark tunnel

is not where we belong.

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