[Poem]

Three keys quite different from each other

Varied in size, shape, and hue

One of gold, second of silver, third of copper

Longing to perform their duty

A plum colored door awaits for a purpose

Its hinges desperate for friction

But what will each key reveal

For that is the question

The gilded key is heavy in hand

Embellished in intricate designs

Turned to the left to expose a wintry land

Piercing frigid air

Key of slate, lightweight and smooth

Opens to darkness, black as night

An all consuming void, impending doom

It seeks out to devour the light

The copper key is certain of its cause

As it pivots to the right

It opens with confidence, not giving pause

Warmth radiates from within

As if everything good has been contained

Nothing seen or felt like it before

Key of lesser metal, worth just as much

If not more