Road To Xilbalba

by Marty Kleva, BS, MA

Who is this angel mine, come to slay me cold?
Sending me into the shattered abyss to die
Alone and cored to the quick.
Raw, without a place to hold
in this sleek obsidian canyon of hell.


Falling — Falling — Sometimes — Floating,
No guide, no map,
nor light to find my way thru the steep descent. 
Except to feel
the dark hood of bleak destruction
 hear the torturous legions of my ravaged laments.

Madness comes barreling
with snarling mouth, sneering lips.
Bared white teeth overtake me
Red-hot incendiary eyes pass me by.
Spitting rings of fire at their edges.


Flames whirling behind it,
 disappear ahead of me
into the jet black bottomless pit
where surely I am headed
as my eyes pierce the terrain of terror within.



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