The Gate

       The Gate.

  To enter the gate of a lesser man, to answer your god of he that can. To cross the threshold of those that are few, that question his reason for those that can’t stand.
  We beg for the key that won’t fit the door, we whisper the answers , we question no more. We grant power to those that don’t question that that is real, but have blind less faith in the answers of the great whore. 
  We pray to the fool’s we cannot deny, we find truths in the fabricators of fabulous stories of an inconceivable lie. We cast doubt in believers that we shall prevail, we build wall’s without windows and doors to keep us all in, and all others out , or at least they won’t try.
  And what of the gate for which we all strive, will the sound of the clang before our demise , awake onto us the greatest surprise. And the freedoms we seek granted by a liberty bell , will be enjoyed by all and not just for some as our gate’s are held open for all to rise.

By GWRoggenbuck