Peace

Every night,
In my dreams,
I see
A locked door.

An old door
With an old lock,
Which no one ever opened,
And they should not.

The door speaks to me
In a soothing voice:
“Son, don’t open me;
You will lose all choice.”

Her dreamy voice
Takes on a hard tone:
"The life you gloat of
Is about battling storms.

You battle storms
Even on sunny days.
People say you are a winner
And ask you to show them the way.

Peace will flood your senses
Once you open the door.
There will be no storm to battle;
Where will the winner go?"