As he walked through the door
He was confused
For the placard was dated
The day before his birth
The room was enshrouded
In a warm, gray mist
There was a presence in the room
A great, humbling presence
He could not begin to fathom
Nor begin to realize with
His mature and cynical mind
He was being told a grand story
Though he could hear no words
A story of missions to accomplish
And tasks to be fulfilled
A peace, an assuredness
Came over him
A feeling he could not remember
Ever having had before
The story he was being told
Diminished
He could no longer feel the words
And could not remember what
The purpose of his life was
Saddened by this loss of knowledge
He took one last longing look
Around the room
Wishing he could remain
But knowing in his heart
He could not
He exited the room with a heavy sigh
In the corridor again
He thought on what had just occurred
And wondered how, if he should proceed
Stepping to the next door in line
He turned the handle
Pushed open the door
And entered the room