The Endless Dark

The sun grows further, and further away.

The stone walls slowly lose the warmth of day.

My lantern begins to feel less like an aid, and more like a lifeline;

the only connection I retain to the world of light-- in the endless dark.

The walls seem to twist and shift as the light dances against them.

As I stare into the grooves and facets-- it becomes clear:

these walls were not hewn by nature’s hand.

Curiosity drives me to delve deeper.

My footfalls no longer seem to resound against these walls.

I’ve told myself it must be this strange dark stone dampening them.

And yet, part of me believes that cannot be true--

that the sound is being swallowed by the endless dark.

I attempted to refill my lantern’s oil-- to find it nearly full.

I can no longer explain why the light seems to grow dimmer.

Perhaps it isn't that the flame is shrinking--

but that the gloom is growing.

My mind may be playing tricks on me.

I swear it takes a moment for the walls to become lit,

as though the light has to fight to reach it.

I believe there is something wrong about this endless dark.

There is no turning back now.

I went to leave-- and found only a wall.

I cannot recall ever finding a turn or second passage...

I can only hope there is an end to this endless dark.

I can no longer see the walls.

I can feel them-- they simply catch no light.

The darkness has engulfed them.

I fear that I will never escape this endless dark.

My hand has vanished.

I held it beside the lantern--

and saw only a shape of pure blackness.

I am slowly fading into the endless dark.

The lantern only illuminates itself now... I will continue without it.

I believe something is calling to me-- drawing to the heart of this place.

I can feel the fingers of the void dancing along my skin.

There is life within this endless dark.