[Bon voyage, crowpied]
There are places down there, of course, that I do not want to visit,
Slimey, foul smelling, hopeless places.
Unimaginable, frigid, volcanic.
There are island I dread to go to,
Surrounded by oily water, puked with acid, dry
Down there there are mountains
With the jaggidest of edges,
Ceaseless, unpredictable currents that scare
Vomit from the most intrepid.
Most of all, darkness, unreasonable nothingness,
The reek of death without its termination, release.
Underground there are horrors.
But I have no choice but go there,
Because,
Because
It's no life to forever
Be dancing on the surface
