The Third Door

Like spikes, they pierced into my flesh, On the old scars trickling blood fresh, The cold, thick, red and sticky blood, Dripped the creases, causing a flood, The stench of blood then mixed with sweat, As blood trickled down my arms wet, My urge to throw up it triggered, It'd worsen my odds, I figured, Of fleeing this eternal despair, To lose power, I did not dare. Felt, I'd been hanging on for days, My arms being roasted while ablaze, The pain ebbed into new numbness, From pain, 'twas a pleasant recess, Wished forever the numbness stayed, Of the pain as I grew afraid. Two doors, I could see them ahead, One pure white while the other red, To Heaven, one would lead me, Badly the other would bleed me. I wasn't sure, which door to knock, Whether die and this pain I block, Or suffer till ceases the clock, Between choices, felt my brain rock. An angelic voice then I heard, A third door to me it offered, Life in heaven, it hid behind, Red hot nails the knob, did they bind, Pain rewarded by paradise, Not choosing this, I saw unwise. With a final gather of might, I then chose to escape that plight With the thorns still stuck in my skin, I gave the knob a quick hard spin, My skin hissed with my palm around, The hot nails, and my skin was browned, Bit my tongue, to contain my wail, Pushed the door with a quick exhale. Felt the air around myself change, I was contained by a power strange, I could see the life in paradise, I was glad that I paid the price. Standing there stronger than before, I was glad I chose the third door.