The Pilgrimage

A staircase
Of one hundred twenty-five thousand
Skulls

Leading down —
Deeper, deeper —
A thousand times as many bones as skulls
Rotting corpses
Of those who descended before you
Clogging the staircase

A stinking passage
You begin to wade through —
But halfway
The stench becomes unbearable
And drives you back

You fetch fuel
Pour it down
Light the match —
The staircase becomes
A blazing inferno
Burning downward
And upward

You sit outside
And then —
You begin digging
Through the ash

When you reach the bottom
The solid ground
You find
Nothing

Just a dark hole
And a pile
Of spades