A Street Corner in Prague, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

What is it of the fire behind the door?
This building for centuries stood its ground,
Daring not a passersby to explore,
Forcing everyone to walking around.
About this old building stories they tell,
Making wary others shake in wonder,
When told inside is the stairs down to hell.
Going to close their souls it will plunder.
Walkers of the street bow in reverence,
Daring not to look into its dark eyes,
Causing them to do their dire penitence.
Not willing to become the devil’s prize.
There once was a brave one who went inside,
Not to be seen again guessing he died.