There’s something in the darkness with me,
It’s rotten and feted, yet living, I can tell.
I can’t breathe for fear of letting it know,
Each rise of my chest brings it closer still.
A rasping shadowy form.
But it knows I’m here, already so,
the glowstick in my hand makes sure it knows.
Sometimes I can see the glow, reflected in hollow eyes.
But I’m trapped down here,
Down a deep, deep dark well.
And there’s no chance I’ll ever get out,
So I’ll breath one more breath, and then close my eyes.
And accept that I won’t live to see the dawn.