What is wrong with me?

Question

O gatekeeper open thy Gate
open thy Gate so I may enter
If thou openest not the gate so that I can not enter.
I will smash the door.I will Shatter the bolt.
I will smash the door post.I will move the doors.
I will raise up the dead eating the living
So that the dead will outnumber the living

Answer 1

What is wrong with you? You're at the wrong gate!

Joining the dead or raising them to fight the living are wrong tactics! Instead wander in insomnia, soul-wounded, with those whose fate matches yours.

Were you to check your figurative analogy GPS, you'd see that your soul is not at the graveyard, but in "The City of Dreadful Night," by James BV Thomson.

Here are the first four stanzas:

======= The City of Dreadful Night=====

Lo, thus, as prostrate, "In the dust I write
My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears."
Yet why evoke the spectres of black night
To blot the sunshine of exultant years?
Why disinter dead faith from mouldering hidden?
Why break the seals of mute despair unbidden,
And wail life's discords into careless ears?

Because a cold rage seizes one at whiles
To show the bitter old and wrinkled truth
Stripped naked of all vesture that beguiles,
False dreams, false hopes, false masks and modes of youth;
Because it gives some sense of power and passion
In helpless innocence to try to fashion
Our woe in living words howe'er uncouth.

Surely I write not for the hopeful young,
Or those who deem their happiness of worth,
Or such as pasture and grow fat among
The shows of life and feel nor doubt nor dearth,
Or pious spirits with a God above them
To sanctify and glorify and love them,
Or sages who foresee a heaven on earth.

For none of these I write, and none of these
Could read the writing if they deigned to try;
So may they flourish in their due degrees,
On our sweet earth and in their unplaced sky.
If any cares for the weak words here written,
It must be some one desolate, Fate-smitten,
Whose faith and hopes are dead, and who would die.
==========
Come, then, my despairing friend, and let me take you home. Your home is on the foggy city streets walking about at night with the others who cannot sleep, and if you look carefully, you will see wandering a few children, a few even younger than you are. This vast poem, which describes your soul, is too long to be cut and pasted -- here it is in its entirety:

http://www.poemhunter.com/p/m/poem.asp?poet=6884&poem=35688

If that crashes, you may have to select it from this link:

http://www.poemhunter.com/james-b-v-thomson/poet-6884/

email me if you have questions.

Answer 2

Gates are passe. Try automatic doors with iris security technology.

You'd even save money on the gatekeeper that way.

Answer 3

Besides plaugerising some one elses work, and being a depressed individual, I dont know...

Have you had your daily dose of prosiac lately?

You may be past your med time...I would hurry :)

I wish you well..

Jesse

Answer 4

Do you want the door opened?

Answer 5

Nothing

Answer 6

I'd say your cellphone reception with the gate keeper sucks!!!!!

Answer 7

"If thou openest not the gate so that I can not enter"
What is that!?! I mean, if you don't open the gate so I can't enter.... don't you mean, if you don't open the gate so that I CAN enter.

Answer 8

Nothing wrong here as far as I can see.

Answer 9

well, the poem itself is a comedy. get into drama

Answer 10

you seem to be a little depressed.
try to recover the loomy feeling.