Central Journey


The bastion widens, look over the edge

Gaping and maw-like

Let’s not fear, though we know not

What lies in the darkness

Far far below.

Incandescent neon worms

Writhe towards the upward

Waiting for the hapless sustenance

Thermal currents are the backbone

Of this existence

In the spirit of Jules

Let’s descend

Lower now, lower; fear not

Whatever is encountered

Rock clocks with stone hands

Crushing weight, so far in the inner

Depths lower than the most severe depressions

Suffered by and inspiring to all

The lost artists and visionaries

Such requisite characteristics

I say, turn it around

Find the joy in the madness

This mother lode of creativity

Would from then on cease to be “madness”

But the immensely taboo “happiness”

This is a call to all spelunkers

Of Earth’s vast and abundant crevices

Forget the light at the end of the tunnel.

Abandon the never-ending burden of

Returning to the surface.

Find and tap the alternative source of life,

Thermal currents

Soak up the nutrients and be happy underground.

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