Upon Reflection- Ode To Jim Morrison
Lying in the water, the drain looks like an old 50’s dial, who would you call? ...God? Would He answer? Were their any other doors you had to walk through, Did they light up like the stage you killed yourself on night after night, going against the establishment, maintaining control, Just a lonely child, stumbling towards the sky, hands out reaching, wanting something more than the disappointment you felt inside, I wonder what it was like, did it feel like going home, a white light, any familiar faces waiting for you? Did the escalator take you up or down, did you regret it, knowing you could never create again, never feel, touch, see, was your perception of death real? Or did you just wish for something that would of come eventually anyway, but again breaking the rules you wanted to get there quicker, to again be in control, when all you had to do was live, but as the captain of your craft, you went down with the crystal ship, just as the waves got higher, you chose to use the door.
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