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Tuesday 16 June 2015

Tartarus

The shallow passage runs deep
Filled with souls; beyond bounds to atone
The air is thick and stifling
Reeking of death and despair.
The hopelessness filling these walls beckons
Whimpering, with tears of lonely anguish as they reach out to you
To answer would to be a fool
Lost are those who wander with their wonder
Doomed to this abyss forever.
A ways off, he approaches
Closer with each row
Steady his pace is
With creaking echoes over the wailing damned
Before long, he docks
Standing at the bow and stretches his hand towards me beggingly
His fingers are rotted
Tattered skin loosely dangles from the bone
Reeking of decay.
Without hesitation I handed him the golden coin.
As he stepped aside
There were no words
There was no hesitation
I made my way aboard the vessel.
Concealed in a ragged cloak
I could not see his face
He made no discernible movements
Head towards the distance
Steering the boat along with every thrust of the oar.
This journey would soon be complete
I sit and await my arrival
Beyond the reach of the living
Beyond the planes of existence
Forgotten in time like whispers in the wind
The final destination for a weary traveler.

 Olsfred James 2015©

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