LatinosUSA

I’m ambling quietly through an evening-time garden mist,
The ethereal sensation moves me along,
I near a stony edge, then my foot suddenly slips,
Unto this realm now I no longer belong…

I’m falling,
                I’m falling,
                               I’m plunging,
So far down,
Where my feet never touch the ground.
My arms wave frantically through the air.
My poor being is nowhere to be found,
I have only misery in this place to share…

Bright rouge and gray light 
Flicker as I fall past in various shades.
I imagine I’ll find some type of extra-mortal flight,
Or that my feet might fall upon an Elysian glade.

The sounds race in sudden whisps,
                                    I hear eerie demonic yells,
                                           I perceive stuttering imperceptible lisps,
                                                   Amidst the low knells of cathedral bells
                                                      And terrifying unsightly scenes of laughing phantom lips.

I know not the amount of time from my first descent,
I know not if my plunge was due to a slip on ice or the roll of a stone,
Surely I must be plunging inside of some bottomless pit,
Far deeper down than any secular people before me have ever known,
I can only dream of the moment this shall end!

I hear my name!
I behold numberless eyes!
Am I somehow to blame?
Upon whom does my future fate lie?

So I twist as I plunge,
                           I feel a cold, howling wind,
                                  How might my fate finally be undone?
                                        Might I exist only to repeat and do this all over again?

I behold multiple dazzling metropolises,
                                            And fireside tents,
                                                   Then I plunge past unsettling ancient forests.
                                                           I hear mocking laughter,
                                                               I behold terrifying, contorted, disturbed faces,
                                                                  Most certainly, it must be my poor soul these cruel  
                                                                       Phantoms are after!

I am suspended in an unending downward animation,
Never knowing or feeling security.
Might such experience be my eternal damnation?
Dear reader,
Please offer me some sort of a blessed surety!