I loathe the darkness of these halls.
Their musty, oppressive scent.
How the rock presses in on me.
How they never seem to end.
Breathe, breathe, damn it.
My lungs are dust and rot.
Nails bloody, hands broken.
I’ve carved my name in here.
How I long for the solitude of stars.
Beg and weep for heartbreak.
Even the company of Hades.
I’d prefer over this.