A deep, dark rumbling drone with noisy harmonics and accents.

—-

We should have never stepped through that door
I knew it shouldn’t have been there
my grandpa used to say,
there are doors
and then there are doors.

We took a wrong turn in the rain
rushing through unfamiliar streets
and we found ourselves in a maze of alleyways
confused and lost
desperately
profoundly
LOST.

I don’t remember who saw the door first
but we all heard its song
the handle was spotted and grimy from neglect
but it shone in its way
a light in the darkness of our plight
it was some Place to go.

I was the first to hesitate
grandma stared at me from the past with her eyes
those damn eyes
and like a whisper in the breeze
and there are doors.

But it was a siren
relentless and enchanting
it knew just what to sing and when
it knew just what to sing to draw our hands
and through the door we went
to the Beyond.

The grinding rumble never ceases
the paths are always moving
up goes sideways until we fall further down
deep down into the far places of the Beyond.

I am alone now
the rest of them are gone
swallowed whole and lost Beyond
while I get closer
(I think I’m getting closer)
nearer back to home.

But my guts twist up more and more as I go on
My bones shake harder and harder
My mind shakes looser…

It’s that pounding
grinding
grumbling
thunderscream…
it never stops.
Sometimes it gets softer and I think it might end
because I’m a damn fool
it gets louder soon enough
too soon always too soon
and I know the hunter is not far behind.