I walked into a cave,
And I felt as though my fears
Were like living parasites,
Strange biological grafts,
Growing, pulsing, slimy things,
With Gross and hideous shapes.

Yet affixed to my back,
Dug into my very spine,
Like murderous lichen,
Or grotesque gothic primordial ooze.

Rising, Creeping, Slithering,
Wrapping mouths, eyes and tentacles
Around me,
Weighing me down.

These things,
Grafted on to me,
Hissing, belching and moaning,
Daring me to look at them.