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THE CLOSED DOOR
Life for life—you paid your debt—
That was no great matter."
Through the Gate that Wamba built
Still the voice pursuing
Softly called, "We know it all,
All that you are doing.
Every stone you're treading now
You have known aforetime,
You have seen these grim red walls
In the stress of wartime.
"You remember? Down this lane
You would often swagger
With your comrades of the mask,
Cloak and sword and dagger.
At that window high she stood,
Some dear dead Dolores…
You've forgotten—and so soon?
—There are other stories…."
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