The forbidden door

So many were they
Poets, artists, well known
Countless many un-named, unknown
Ordinary souls

They loved, they lost
They opened the forbidden door
Dark and heavy
And stepped into
The unknown

They gave, and gave, some more
And then, some more
Their meagre offerings
Of words, of images, of imaginations
Of love songs of the beating heart

And though they could dig deep
And extract more
Perhaps it would
Devalue the offering

Sometimes, even offerings
Of the heart
Are not sufficing enough
To beat the odds

Hence stepping through
The forbidden door
Seemed the wiser option, perhaps
Before the offering
Went cold