Saturday, 20 September 2008

The Potholer’s Caveat

A warning to all who seek adventure in caves,
Be aware of their secrets and dangers,
For therein lie demons and Lucifer’s slaves;
To day’s light all are deprived strangers.

While exploring the depths of an aqueous cavern
My starved ears caught hold distant groans,
Then did I long for the light of the tavern
A s my lamp played across damp-licked stones.

In the cavern’s cathedral, twix stalagmites white,
Danced a horde of beings most foul,
The type of which haunt the bad dreams of night,
All divested of shoe, cloak and cowl.

Twix their legs, broomsticks, each was astride,
Cold sweat leaked from my shivering pores,
And a legion of black cats howled and cried
As those witches performed their Satanic chores.

Then they caught sight of my glimmering lamp,
Broke away from their coven, their infernal camp.
I turned to run, yet slithered and fell,
Became the prostrated prey of those Maids of Hell.

And onward they came, with every breath’s tide,
Each born of the Devil, and some demon’s bride,
Tore off my clothings, fangs pierced my skin,
Rent by those claws on hands bony-thin.

Ripped out my tongue, disgorged offending eyes,
The blood in gored throat stifled agony’s cries,
Shredded mine flesh down to barest bone,
And scattered as carrion upon subterranean stone.

Now they are gone, in such jubilant mood,
Gave their Master so sanguine a toast,
While I am left here, in spirit, to brood,
On my existence as an unwilling ghost.

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