Wish I Was There

I know I can tell, Heaven from Hell, but can't decipher blue skies from grey, there is no free feel when it's covered by a veil, empty smiles and long, drawn out miles, waves of trees crash into hillsides and valleys, rushing through the center of a doorway afar. How I wish, I wish I could step through, but can only look outward like a fish in a bowl, a hero kept out, with his nose pressed against the glass, waiting and praying, constantly delaying, how I wish I was there. Two lost souls, ghosts from the wall, free from the same old fears, rave of the doorway, and the soothing sense of simply walking through. You can drive for miles, through charred forest, scorched Earth, city lights, and cancelled flights, but still, the doorway taunts from afar, outstretched visions from strained eyes and peering observation catch only a glimpse. The doorway hides in the center of all landscapes and thoughts, canvasses and plots...how I wish I was there. I sense home is on the other side, and no living soul can really break through, we can only wonder and imagine, waiting for our fate as we are strung along the detour of life. We chase and pursue, yet fear what's on the other side of the wall. We fear the trip, the ride, the doorway, the end, thought it may be, our only friend.