At the end of the tunnel there was a door.
When the door opened,
Isn’t it always like this?
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.