What does this small door open to?
Where does this entrance lead?
To a secret staircase,
Or a mighty noble steed?

Perhaps an endless field of stars,
Or alien terrain;
Great waves of mighty vehicles
To charge across the plain;

An honour guard of shining knights
Or swarms of countless foes;
A dark trench-coated private eye
To tell you what he knows;

The tomb of a great warrior,
His body lain in state;
A dark priest’s inner chamber
With its altar of pure hate;

A fleet of anchored warships,
All ready to depart;
The final set of traps that guard
The holy mountain’s heart;

A glistening laboratory
Of wonders to behold;
Mighty curving walls of ice
That gleam with burning cold;

A superhero costume
To unleash your inner strength;
Your wise and wizened mentor,
Who desires to talk at length;

A legendary training room
Where you can hone your skill;
A cold white room where your beloved
Lies so deathly ill;

A briefing room where you find out
How you can save the day;
An awesome craft to take you to
A place so far away;

Millions of universes
Linked to this one point;
A crowd of surly faces,
A disreputable joint;

A cupboard full of power tools
We’ll use for our escape;
Our most valued captive
Who can change his very shape;

Shifting clouds and atmosphere
Above a barren land;
The fabled artifact that we
Defend with our last stand;

A world that’s full of magic,
Where souls are forged and grown;
The frightening power so many
Have been trying to disown;

A thousand atmospheres of pressure
Waiting to rush in;
A poor neglected victim
Who’s now so weak and thin;

The king’s forbidden siren
And her enticing web;
The fragile source of life that’s reached
It’s very lowest ebb;

A host of those that stalk the night,
Who we must now destroy;
A team of special forces
Preparing to deploy;

The secret project our elites
Have hidden all these years;
The documents that will confirm
Our deepest gnawing fears;

The unsuspecting target
Of a dark assassin’s blade;
A refuge from the desert heat,
Providing welcome shade;

A passage to another time
When life was simpler, yet
Dirtier, more difficult,
And often under threat;

Rolling hills and meadows
On which to play and roam;
A vault of glistening treasure,
Or better yet, a home?