The Key
The
Key
Beside
the gilded mantle-clock
There
lies a key without a lock,
A
lonely, useless key.
Yet
never could the key that is
Be
worse than its stark opposite:
A
lock without a key.
Between
the prisoner and free
There
stands a door without a key,
A
cruel, barring door.
Yet
if the walls made every side
‘Twere
better keyless door abide
Than
key without a door.
Before
the road of every man
There
lies a choice without a plan,
A
single, changeless choice.
Yet
never should our choice we give
To
other men who’d make us live
A
plan without a choice.
Behind
the inspiration stirred
There
is a thought without a word
A
fully soundless thought.
Yet
how could damage more be done
Than
if thought were the lacking one:
A
word without a thought.
Behold
the man beside the stream
Who
has a life without a dream
An
empty, useless life.
Yet
much worse still a dream must be
When
it absorbs man’s ecstasy:
A
dream without a life.
Beware
the ones that train a thief
To
steal an aim without belief
A
pointless, groundless aim.
Yet
where the fires of faith abound
There
may be found a tipping ground:
Belief
without an aim.
Beyond
this broken world of Man
There
is a God outside of Man,
A
holy, endless God.
Yet
even as Man tries to live
He
never will succeed, survive
As
Man without a God.
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