When you feel yourself slipping
From that place of stability and sureness
You try to grab hold
As you descend
But you slip
You try at least
To leave a thread
As you slide down the tunnel.
But the farther you get from that place
The harder it is to
Hold on to the thread
To see the thread
To find it, to feel it.
Until the memory of that
Sure place
Fades.
You hope there is a light
At the end of the tunnel.
But you fear
It’s just a dungeon down there
At the end
The end of the tunnel.
But what you haven’t realized yet:
There is no light
And there is no dungeon.
Just tunnel.
It’s tunnel all the way down.