Friday, December 10, 2010

The Mouth

The Mouth

Miners forage for aged
Carbon detritus
The granite grants its haunting
Caverns unopposed,

"You're claiming this your mine
But all that glitters here is mine

A minute is mlnute
You miners are but minors
Taunting ancient depths
Suffice to say you'll exit
Staying mingles death"

With pick and torch
They pick a way
Abyssal beckoning
Elusive  specters
Hiding in the hollows
Just beyond acuity

The sinister stalactites
Grinning broken maws
A hanging dripping awe
A literal suspense

The miners moving on
Intensely wary
Nary a canary
Held to test the draft
That inundates the shaft

A tepid gazing
Seeks the apogee
A surface writhing
Keening shifting forms
Keenly seeping murk

Disquietude  distilled
They plunder deeper still

The dank and dark beguile
There are no stars to pass
The night eternal waits
But then!  A diamond flash
Enticed euphoric states

The miners clutch what they had sought
A smattering of gems
But the miners part with naught
The mine has swallowed them

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