Through ancient frames, they stand so still,
Guardians of secrets, stories to spill.
Each creak and groan, a whispered lore,
In every hinge, a world to explore.

The paint may peel, the wood may age,
Yet within their core lies life’s grand stage.
A door ajar, a glimpse of hope,
A shut one, perhaps, helps us cope.

In moonlit night or morning’s glow,
The passage they grant, the mysteries they show.
Each handle turned, a choice is made,
Behind each door, our fates are laid.

So knock with courage, step through with grace,
For every door leads to a place.
A new beginning, an ending near,
Through each door, we conquer fear.