by Nick Gisburne
The shadows here are not for spiteful eyes,
Though some can sense a shimmer as we shift.
Intangible, the secrets we disguise
Can starve or smother. Death is never swift.
What brings you to this dungeon of despair,
Alone and unprotected? Madness? No.
Not fear. No matter. Look then, but beware:
Unless you learn, we cannot let you go.
You see the other side of human hate.
The truth is what we are, and all we own.
I think, perhaps, you travelled here too late.
Your world is too unworthy to atone.
The gift that lets you see what we become
Will bring no revelation to the numb.
