He enters the wood
without wanting,
taken from slumber
and pushed from behind
into darkness.
Up ahead he sees light,
he wants to believe
he always sees light,
but lately its not there
and he cannot see,
and they’re not at home.
He’s becoming afraid
to close his eyes,
no telling where he’ll end up,
skirting the edges of
the unknown.
He wonders what’s beyond,
a cliff, a hole, a vacuum,
insanity hovering over the
sprawling darkness of Hell.
He’s never been
though he thinks he can taste it,
it tastes of fear,
dark and gritty like burnt toast.
His only hope in
the little white diamonds.
When he swallows,
their edges work to scrape
the darkest burn away.