The Gate With No Fence Book Review

Never again will you find, thoughts as those that fill my mind.
Locked in my brain with my sanity in doubt, I must put them on paper yes, I must get them out !
I was out hunting on a crisp autumn morn, till I was stopped in my tracks as the silence was torn.
The woods around me were saturated with sounds, by what I first thought to be the yelping of hounds.
I got closer and closer hoping to see, who could be out there, Just who could it be!
The nearer I got, the sounds more intense, coming from beyond a gate with no fence.
I've hunted here many times, a thousand or more, though I fail to remember this gate here before.
Well I went to investigate as if I had something to prove. I tried to walk around but my feet would not move.
By now I was frightened as I turned to go back, but behold a torch floating, it's flames burning black.
Taking no time for thought through the gate I did run,
Realizing too late, oh what have I done?
Shortly beyond I came to a stop, hearing a sound that made my heart drop.
It was the sound of the gate closing behind, where am I at, what will I find?
I watched as a thick fog began to descend, if this is a nightmare please let it end.
As my head lifted to look to the skies, in sure disbelief of what I saw with my eyes.
Above the fog out in plain sight, was a bird with no wings soaring in flight.
Down on the ground below the strange fog were two little caterpillars eating a frog. Up ahead was a woman wearing not but a coat, screaming in silence as a jackal dined on her throat.
Her body went limp as she fell to the ground, while the blood thirsty jackal circled around.
He moved in closer to feed on his prey, no he will not, there he also will lay!
Lifting my rifle, he will no longer eat, as the bullets left my barrel, they fell to my feet.
No longer scare I ran toward the beast, some way I must stop his unholy feast.
I watched as he climbed upon her belly to rest, lapping the blood and gnawing her breast.
Faster I ran yelling, loud as could be, yet I could not believe what I was to see.
The creature looked rotten, like bones in a sack, a lizard ate the maggots that crawled from his back.
Still, I must stop him, but before I attack, I noticed a torch its flames burning black.
Again I took off to flee from the torch, to find myself standing on an old ragged porch.
My head once more was filled with strange calls, as I burst through a door, into a room with no walls.
I hear a woman crying, " please save me," she begs as my eyes see a table with one chair and no legs.
The voice sounds close, so I turn to see where, noticing pictures surround me as if hanging in air.
Closer I creep and more my heart races, they're family portraits with mangled up faces.
Beyond the weird table, there stood a door, just like the one I had come through before.
These voices, These voices, They're driving me mad, so I ran into it with all that I had.
The door flung open into the night and I threw out my rifle with all of my might. I ran out behind it and jumped off the porch, only to notice that strange burning torch.
Again I was running, but I did not know where. My only concern was to get out of there.
I came to some willows, their limbs long and weeping, below them were graves where the dead where sleeping.
As I stood there in awe and wonder, the earth opened up and pulled me down under.
Well at least it's over as I fall to my doom, until I woke up in a white padded room.
Now every morning as I open my eyes, I look yet at no one, and then realize,
this is much better than that unholy place, loneliness, like a friend I will forever embrace.
The cameras are on me now, watching me, watching me.
It's almost like some kind of curse, day after day my mind keeps reminding me, yes the voices are worse. 
The air I breathe comes from a vent, they feed me when they want me to eat, everyday they put pills on my tray as if they're some kind of treat.
My only contact with the outside world is a door with a window so thin, I feel it's not there for me to look out, but instead for them to look in.
My sun is florescent, my moon is no longer and this world I see only as white.
Nothings as intense as that gate with no fence, except when they turn off my light.
So if you're out hunting one day, you better not stray, or you may be filled with fright, from a torch burning black, through an old ragged shack, into your own little world of white.