I embark through the catacombs with nothing but

Wit and a flickering torch,

Casting dancing shadows on the dust-covered,

Claw-scratched, beaten-up cinder-blocks

That surround me in this tomb of tombs.

The air is stuffy, I cough more than I breathe.

Each step sends another flurry of dust into the air,

As if it were snow in the middle of a blizzard.

What I would give to emerge from these cold and

Haunting shadows. What I would give to reach

The end of this suffocating tunnel.

I embark through the catacombs with a begrudging

Will in my heart of hearts. Shivers spider-walk down my

Spine, and I get the feeling that I am being watched, judged,

By the wind blowing through these stone paths.

They sound like ghostly voices.

They feel like prying eyes.

But when I turn around,

There is nothing but the darkness,

Illuminated by the growing glow of my torch.

I embark through the catacombs, familiarity

Settling into my bones.

I am Theseus, maneuvering a Labyrinth of

My own making. I have a mission to accomplish,

A task to complete, and the shadows on the walls are

Nothing but shadows.

I embark through the catacombs, each step thunderous like

Those of the gods. There is nothing to fear in this

Once-suffocating darkness, so long as I possess light.

I am Theseus, a hero of myth.

And the only monster I have to fear lies within.