I delved into a creepy cave, looking for enchanted loot.
With my potions and my mace, and a freshly tailored mining suit.
I had no trouble with the lurking spiders or the creeping slimes,
the few who dared to challenge me were bashed into the grime.
It wasn't 'till the seventh floor, I began to hear the whispers
and saw the shadows twist at the tugs of ethereal drifters.
Time has treat these tortured souls to tedium and toil
as they wander aimless in the dark, deep down below the soil.
My presence here has spooked them, they want to return the favor
My terror and my anguish are the flavors that they savor,
but I came prepared tonight with a holy water tonic,
some earplugs made of dwarven wax to drown out all the sonic
shrieking and the moaning as I cast a scroll of holy light.
But it sputters and corrupts, wait, something isn't right!
Maybe I mispronounced a rune, or skipped over a word
but it's hard to describe the arcane disaster that occurred.
The spirits, flush with power began to twist reality,
building spaces and shattered spires out of their insanity.
I fell, I panicked and I scurried, lost down in the dark,
and spent hours or maybe days down there before I saw a spark
of midnight stars up in the sky, through an opening below,
so I hopped down in and popped back up. How? I still don't know.
But there I was where I had started, the entrance to the cave.
This time it was different, I was no longer feeling very brave.
I journeyed home and found my bed to get some rest,
but the nightmares that I have now make me wonder if I ever left.
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