Sunlight does not reach these Caverns
Open like the mouths of stagnant hell.
They grow darker as you drift on down
Slowly in the balance of gentle death.
Like a feather in a ray of moonlight
You no longer cling to a beating heart.
Instead, between the black and the waves,
You drift before the stars fade away.
Your hands reach for the silver moon
Rays reaching out to you like pale arms.
But it is too weak to hold on to you
And they retreat into the oncoming dawn.
So, silently, you fall into the open dark
Still and cold but free to hope,
You will be lifted by loving hands to the sky,
The stars grow closer as you finally die.
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