Regardless

Regardless of the length of her hair

or the color of it bare,

the shoes that adorn her feet

are as black as where the trees meet.

Ugly veils that hide gleaming light

pull way to fears which fight

and wish not for me to go

but to stay where food could not grow.

A young bear slept near

its mother bloody with deer.

A mother that mourned this rest

to express it would never leave this nest.

A human moan was audible,

and the blade of loss was no longer dull,

so she crawls atop their hallowed mound

and stows inside to escape the sound.

The retreat was as a volcano,

red and warm but comforting though

it smells of sulfur and smoke

and mirrors what Hell could evoke.

An owl stares at her from beyond the rim.

She stares back despite it being dim

and watched as it morphed to a man

who implies he was there when it all began.

"I see you there; you seem lost.

I can help you for a cost."

He gestures as if to guide her,

but is interrupted by a malevolent cur

who tows behind him an eyeless horse

that follows aimlessly, unable to endorse

the direction in which this wicked

being drags him carelessly and uncommitted.

Bloody spurts leap from the man's shirt.

He gurgles and coughs, eking out, "I'm hurt..."

Twice more he erupts before the being

looks to her as says, "I would be fleeing."

She turns and runs toward the light

while the eyeless horse flies like wind caught a kite.

As it approached her she fell

and rolled into a deep cave as wet as a well.

It was dark again and smelled of mold.

There was no heat, and she was cold

enough that she was instantly numb,

her eyes could not see and her mind was dumb.

Her hands found a wall with a carved letter

that was hard to follow as the well got wetter

and she began to drown until she remembered

to climb the walls which were well timbered.

She reaches the top and the floor is flat.

Sprawled beside her was the hide of a cat,

that was mangled and aligned

to a door that was so bright it left her blind.

She fumbles toward where she knows it would be-

the door handle that needs no key-

but when she grabs it, excitement claws

and her heart explodes without pause.

Pieces plastered to the wood of the door,

creatures surround her frame on the floor.

Their skin is wrinkled and dry like a reptile;

their hands were human to remain tactile

Despite their baby faces looking asleep,

they scream and cackle as their tales sweep

and they flash their tightly needled teeth

and black bile ejects from beneath.

She lays now awake on the floor and stares at the ceiling

for no other reason than to escape the reeling

of her dreary thoughts and fear of death

and the creatures with fetid breath.