I found the catacombs, below
my mind’s deepest basement level,
searching for secrets in shadows.

Up top, my tracks were writ in snow,
and wet prints through keeps, medieval,
’til I found the catacombs below.

What would I find down there, who knows?
Let’s hope not some home-grown devil.
Searching for secrets in the shadows

isn’t work for weak and weary souls.
Don’t know how I ‘massed the mettle
to find the catacombs, below.

I felt the torment and the throes
of one who’s become bedeviled,
searching for secrets in shadows.

I saw highs and lows — thorns and rose,
but never had time to revel.
I found the catacombs below,
searching out secrets in shadows.