The blue door

The room was small and concealed by the blue door, 
It had no heavy lock—just an ordinary, 
Mundane door. It seemed old, and
Yet it was painted with fresh, worrying blue—
Coloured with the unspeakable fear.

Two men stood in front of the blue door—
Father and son—
The son told the father his fear, 
And the father smiled, carefree, however
Ignorant of the anxiety which fulfilled the son's pupils, 
Opened the blue door to show that
There was indeed nothing to fear—

Behind the door
It revealed a bare, naked room. 
It didn't have much space, but it was empty—
Without furniture, obstacle, or
Something to cling on. 
There was nothing.

'See, there's nothing, son.'

The son, in spite of
His father's confusion, 
Screamed in fear for the emptiness.

Dale Chou
1999-11-23