At The Cavern Mouth

A witness to ancient wounds .

We stand together
at the threshold
of the gaping cavern mouth.

You softly quiver,
lost in lifetimes,
images flicker in
like failing torchlight.

Stepping forth,
finding your way
along pitch-black corridors,
ghostly echoes
of footsteps chasing.

Snake-like shadows weaving,
fibrous walls alive and breathing.
I cannot unravel you
from their knots.

But suddenly you shrink back
into the clear bright world.

And a salted tear
of despair
falls slowly to the ground.

My eyes glisten too,
yet I hold steady,
waiting to heal your wounds
here at the cavern’s mouth.

— Guinevere (2026)

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