This door you might not open, and you did; <br />So enter now, and see for what slight thing <br />You are betrayed.... Here is no treasure hid, <br />No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring <br />The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain <br />For greed like yours, no writhings of distress, <br />But only what you see.... Look yet again-- <br />An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless. <br />Yet this alone out of my life I kept <br />Unto myself, lest any know me quite; <br />And you did so profane me when you crept <br />Unto the threshold of this room to-night <br />That I must never more behold your face. <br />This now is yours. I seek another place.<br /><br />Edna St Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-vi-this-door-you-might-not-open-2/
