This poem was prompted by wyld_dandelyon and janetmiles, and sponsored by janetmiles. It also draws on personal experience, when a covenmate passed away. The "Third Road" is a reference to the path that leads, not to Heaven or Hell, but to Faery and the Summerland beyond.
The young Pagan man gazed at the two gates,
one of gold and pearl,
one of iron and onyx.
He looked down at the coupon in his hand:
Get out of Hell free!
Then he turned to the frayed soul behind him,
a teenager dead from overdose,
lank hair swinging around a pinched face.
"Hey, kid, do you want this?
I'm headed for Summerland myself."
A tentative nod answered his question.
He pressed the coupon into the waiting hand.
The teenager's tired eyes turned toward the bright gate.
The Pagan soul stepped out of the line
and strolled away down the Third Road,
a winding path fringed with blackberries and apple trees
soon disappearing into the undergrowth.