When the music’s over; turn out the light

There is no wood in this hole
yet no draught and no rush, nothing
ushering a soul to go through;
it’s just a void to avoid,
there to contemplate
as much as to ignore, swerve
with the staying put power of existence
but the doorway,
it detects you, rejects you
until you’re ready to be taken then
processes, scans-ascension
to a hall, scanning strangers
holding up names.