Each step ahead or each step behind,
Darkness drives through on for miles,
Dense and thick, the air is maligned,
With evil eyes and frosty smiles.
Breathe or not, I shift, I falter,
Being devoured by the dark shadows,
All I hear is their sinister laughter,
All I feel is their noxious blows.
Yet, at home I feel with those red eyes,
Those fangs, those horns, those hooves;
Eat my soul, but they wear no guise,
Just debauchery and no unforeseen moves.
Drawing the illusion to light is fearsome,
When the presumable play turns to blood for pleasure,
When the shadows meet with their masked dorsum,
They might as well be dacoits and I, the treasure.
So why take a step, go deeper inside,
In the search for a light that leads to hell?
It’s dark and damp and distressful where I hide,
But it’s better than the sound of the death knell.