Today I stood at the Gates of Hell.
Not in truth, but at an exhibit
In a garden
In a place where flowers are the grass.
How odd to stand at the Gates of Hell
In a place so angelic,
It just might as well
Be Heaven.
And as I stood at the Gates of Hell,
Horrible scenes played in my mind
Like some sort of
mental slideshow.
Pictures of screaming women
Flash in front of my eyes.
A frog-like man, hunched over,
Shielding his face from the world.
Three small children Huddle in a corner,
As insults and objects
Bounce off the walls.
Although beautiful,
Never again will I venture
Back to that paradise,
Where the Gates of Hell stand erect.
So tall, so close,
I can almost touch them…
~Inspired by the “Gates of Hell” statue at Stanford
