Long did I argue
with the Keeper of the gate
I pleaded my case
with each of the twenty-four
stratagems of rhetoric
I begged, pleaded, implored
I wheedled, swindled and baboozled
and still he gave me nought
but the same grim smile
for an age it seemed
I bargained and cajoled
vaunted and taunted him

He gave no ground
cold granite-hard heart
rigid eyes obsidian pits of emptiness
immobile and watchful as a standing stone
grown upon Easter Island soil
nothing I said would move him

And so I said...nothing
I became as inert and still as he
time passed slow
so slow
I matched his every breath
so slow
moss and lichen festooned
my planted feet

One day, as the sun rose
its bloody rays staining my face
He was gone, simply there no more
I remained
inert and still
immobile and watchful
the same grim smile
I, the Keeper of the gate


Copyright (C) 2005 lovepoet