A Fog Forest

At the Cage’s Door

I see you standing in the trees
when others whisper not
to gaze into the heart of Hell
with Grace’s light forgot

They plead the soul a sacred thing
protected from your ire
within a cage of timber walls
that choke their passion’s fire

So while you call with gentle hand
and heaven’s fallen chorale,
I hesitate at threshold’s edge
to take the word of an immortal