Corridors.

This is not our life
or our time
this is an illusion of reality
composed of moments
when you still haunt me

You open a door
into a corridor within my mind
leading to another door
and into another life
a life lived in another time
mirrored in the memory
of what is to come

Time itself is an illusion
time is not outside us
time is within us
returning all things made
to the origin of substance

The body returns to dust
and the soul returns to God
we leave upon the Earth
the immortal human seed
and leap into timelessness

Where the past and the future
are remembered together
and the present invades all time

Where the light
floods the dungeons of hell
and the roar reverberates
bouncing off worlds

It is there that all are found Alive

Another door opens
and you are there
the love that never was
and always is
the passion that never lived
and cannot die
captured in the amber of youth

Tainted, by being virtuous
Prodigal, by being dutiful
Lost, by being found at home.