Into the Underworld
Heavy gray mist
Surrounds the River Styx,
Its ebony liquid a step towards rebirth.
A soft keening rises from the haze,
Haunting, poignant, evocative,
A song for the souls of the dead.
Suddenly the mists part,
Revealing a tiny boat of weathered wood.
A shadowy figure cloaked in onyx beckons;
The boatman is here to collect
The recently departed,
And so the journey has begun.
Darkness seeps through every crevice.
Only a void,
A blanket of the darkest sable,
Smothering, consuming, dominating.
There is no escape,
Only death waits.
A bitter chill permeates through the skin,
Searing the soul,
Branding it with the mark of Hades.
There is no warmth here,
Death has no mercy or compassion
For those who cannot accept.
The air is fraught with sorrow and suffering,
Strong enough to weigh down the lightest of hearts;
Brought down by the hidden tide from beneath.
Repressing, stifling, crushing,
Nothing to feel but despair;
Surrender to the darkness within.
There is no hope down here,
Save for a tiny spark somewhere within the gloom.
But that is far away,
Dwindling in shadow,
Retracting from those who do not believe,
It fades away as if it were never there.
The descent is complete
At the sight of fierce, three-headed Cerberus,
Loyally guarding the ornately decorated Gate,
Finely wrought cold iron,
Austere, detached, emotionless
A mirror of the ruler?s heart.
Welcome to the Underworld.
