In his search for the eyes of the abyss

longing to see those reflections of the void

infinity became a path through dark woods

leading to a stairway carved in shadow

and all that waits beneath the unearthed crypt

All that would ever mean anything

breathed in that world away from light

with hands already reaching for him

standing in the doorway to his liberation

a world at his back

rushing by with not a single glance his way

to watch his descent into absolution

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I think I had an old H.P. Lovecraft story in my mind as I wrote this. Can’t remember what it’s called, but it’s something about a man becoming obsessed with a mausoleum he finds in the woods near his house. Creepy stuff.

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