Beyond the Door
By: Amoeba Dreamer
Eve opened the door, hidden among the vines that had overgrown it millennia ago
She pulled its handle and out came the glow of time
It smelled of time past, so sweet, so
"Oh, I wish it was mine!"
She walked through the door
Into a street
A clock far above said it was half-past four
And people were going to eat.
One lady sat
With a hat, perched on her head
She gave the dog sitting next to her a pet
Who was sleeping on his bed
A man in a coat
With tails as long as a cat
Was reading the paper
And he sat and he sat and he sat.
Horses were pulling carriages
Out in the way
One man ran off barehanded
Forgetting to pay
The sun shone down brightly
On this beautiful town
And Eve was quite sightly
In her mud-spattered gown
She walked to and fro
Around that busy street
People didn't notice her
Not even her bare feet
"Oh, why can't they see me?"
Eve mournfully cried.
Then she saw clearly
Her mother, who had died.
"What's going on?
Where am I now?"
Eve cried out, pale and wan
She was answered by nothing, except the mooing of a cow.
Suddenly, in front of her
Things began to change
People in front and around her
Had eyes full of rage
Some had pointed noses
Others, red, dark eyes
All in deathly poses
Blocking out the sky
And they swallowed her whole
Leaving not a single bit
And her place a hole
Where she, in the universe, should fit
And those people wings unfurled
And took off in the sky
For what is this world
If nothing, but a lie?