The key turns half, then stops again.
The teeth cut deep. I do not care.
The door I meant to open, open, open, is not here.

I'm standing where I should not be.
I went. I did not leave. I stare.
The key turns half, then stops again,
then stops again.

The path behind me has no end
I 'member reaching. Every year
the door I meant to open, open, OPEN! is not here.

It chews my finger to the bone,
with diligence I've learned to bear
the key turns half, then stops again,
then stops again,
it stops again.

My bloodied hand does work for ten,
Gods. This splendid key, I bear,
The door I meant to open, OPEN! OPEN! is not here.

Please set it down, I never do.
The pins align. The tumblers shift!
The key turns half, it starts again,
it starts again,
IT STARTS AGAIN!!
The door I meant to OPEN! OPEN! OPEN! is not here.

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Ero, in the year 1004 AF.