The other side

Faint knocking,

On a wooden carcass,

Trapped in an archway,

Believed to be called a door,

Knocking,

Calling,

Feverishly mocking, 

Hiding behind something once so alive,

Thriving so bold,

What is that idle cackling? 

Ear pressed against wooden stone,

So cold,

No it must be a wispy hoarse calling,

"Come Here",

Its just a twist of the wrist,

A push,

Feast your eyes,

Behold,

The other side,

The other side,

Holding the key,

But wheres my hole,

PLEASE GOD,

Whats behind this door.