The Gate- Poetry

Peccadillo: Your warnings and superstitious chants
That keep society ravelled in a carapace, hid blind and hindered
Curfews, violations, trespassings, and probations
And only so few which appraise myriad gold for the key
To unlock the gate to excess and beyond
Leaving us to fawn and fathom
At what depths behold
Beneath blue oceans bold!
Whereby beneath lies gold
Not wealth, but of bountiful blessings
Whereby questioning becomes scholarly nature
And whichever route you prefer
Is the route you take

But forsake! Forsaken is he
Who hops the gate
No key he possesses
So confine
Make endogenous spree
That each hope, dream
Scorned with abjuration
Keeping all in tight breathing spaces
Until our wills act in admiration
For he who jumps the gate