There is a quiet stir at the door.
Should you open it?
Should you turn the knob and find the answer to the secret?
There could be darkness;
Utter silence;
Mesmerizing chaos, with plumes of flame writhing from the
Crevices of the great abyss;
Nightmares from the outer dimensions of space and time;
There could be darkness.
But how will you know?
How will you know if there is anything at all?
Shouldn’t you try anyhow?
What is there to fear?
What is there to give in to,
To find yourself asking the gods, “Why me?”
The waterfall of hope should flow over you,
The molded rocks below,
To sculpt the very bone,
To fashion your mind,
To be a smithee, and to make your weapons and armor.
But what do we fight in the end?
Is there some fantastic dragon of obsidian death,
Waiting for us behind every door unopened?
Maybe there is.
But we shall take our swords and
Answer the stir that challenges us.
We shall go forth into that unknown;
For what better to do than to
Conquer the Universe?