The Doors are Shut

[pimpsfriend]

This door is shut,
This door is too.
Further down I find,
another locked door,
and yet again,
I fail to open one.

Four doors naught to open,
Four doors naught to be.
Four doors I will never know
Four doors I will never see.
Four doors that could hold
all that I want
all that I need
or all that will destory me,
or all three.

One door of oak
strong and sturdy
aught not to break
under the extreme conditions.
A gold knocker,
emblazened with the phrase,
"Primoris per quattuor ,
primoris in meus pectus pectoris"
From inside you hear
Mozart's 11th piano.
a soothing sound,
for a soothing memory.

The Second of Redwood
a fine piece of work.
Smooth as silk
glossed and routered
into a very fine finish.
A silver knocker,
emblazened with the phrase,
"Secundus puella,
plurimus decorus."
A simple message,
for an intricate door.
Fur Elise resonates
from within this hallowed portal.

The Third of Stone
never to be opened
or looked upon.
Little to be said,
it's blandness blinding.
No knocker,
but the phrase chiseled,
"Alieno quod attero."
We must follow its adivise
and move on,
for stone is never moved.

The Fourth and last
made of the finest fir.
The newest of the four
and most least virgin.
Splintering in one area,
piercing the heart
of any who look in.
"Ero restituo,
tamen etiam vulnero animus."
Is there still time to fix?
Only the sounds from within
can tell us.

Four doors all different
Four doors all shut.
Four doors with inside locks
Four doors with only one chance
to enter into it's glory.

Down the hallway we go.