ooking up, I can see the faint outline of light,
Far above me. Surely I couldn't have fallen this far, this fast? Wasn't it only yesterday I was up there, Walking in the sunlight? Or perhaps the day before? (Hard to remember.) I claw at the walls, Fingernails begging for just a hint of handhold. If I start right now, (and if it would stop receding) I should be able to get out, Eventually. But my hands can find no purchase, My toes scrabble against cold, hard stone. I will crouch right here, Back to the cold wall, And wait for someone to come for me. Certainly there is someone up there who cares? Isn't there? (My memory grows as dim as that distant salvation.) "Hello?" The echoes are growing stronger, My voice more feeble. The pain is receding, As numbness expands. I no longer yearn for the far off light, Only for the darkness to complete it's meal.
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