The Valley

I am at the mouth of hell,

lamp in hand.

My trembling guide to light the way.

I hold her above me,

a sword, though she cannot slay.

In the cavern of monsters,

we falter.

Dampened in the dark.

but I press on.

Because those who sit, 

will be slewn.

And those who wait

must yield.

Here, you do not get to choose when

to be devoured.

Only how.

So I go, lamp in hand

not cowering behind the muddy rocks.

I trod,

so that someday, the rest

may find the way out.