Creeping down the hostile obsidian path
Spread delicately balanced against the wall
One slip would mean plumeting through the dark
And finishing splattered on the glass edged rocks beneath.
Thats not the way to end
It must be controlled
Following the spiral path down
Always being aware that it is far to the ground
That ghostly refection on the wall
A shadow of oneself
And of what one will become
Always trying to ignore those twisted bodies
Within the black glass
Hands pressed against the transparent surface
for the dark.
Block out their frightened gazes and imaginary screams
Just follow the spiral path down
One hand trailing on the slippery wall
and at last realising
There is only down and down
The black only becomes deeper
As the smooth path becomes jagged
Cutting and slicing at naked feet
Inducing a trail of blood that only dwindles
When there is nothing left to bleed.
When slowly and gradually
The end is reached
The fluid darkness engulfing one lonely dying self
Trapping just another ghost of life
Within the osidian rock wall.