Heaven's Gate

By John R. Bomar
There’s a howling mob at the gate and the chains are rattling.
Its rage is echoed in the screaming-high-pitch.
Of beasts and hooligans and abandoned children.
Their misery and anger filled up to the brim.
It sounds in sirens of wailings repeated.
Like voices from loved ones living in hell.

There’s a howling mob at the gate and the chains are rattling.
The inmates want out – into where we are.
The bars are creaking from the weight of their rampage.
The gate chains are straining and the links are now parting.
They clank and moan from the load on their back.

There’s a howling mob at the gate and the chains are rattling.
Get away you children while you still can.
Not to the next room or even the second, neither the fourth nor even the tenth.
These are unsafe with even the distance, for the mob when exploded will seek you out.

There’s a howling mob at the gate and the chains are parting.
Better take to the next floor where maybe it’s safe.
Be ready for indifference for it is a plenty.
To find your way home simply look in the stillness.
And open yourself to the guidance within.
For the rage is a building and the dark clouds a coming.
When the mob is out it will be way too late.
For the fury is mounting and won’t be abated.
Until it’s destruction is called to itself.

Be away little children while time’s a plenty.
For heavens gate is straining and the chains are moaning.

Be away little children while there’s still time.
There’s a howling mob at the gate and the chains are parting.


John R. Bomar