Rude to the mountain holding fast to wood
whose outcrop slowly outshines the crags
Shadowed and morbid fissure in dirt
raging till the tunnels end in pitch black

Centerpiece of earthen burrowing
benevolence aimed at ambling creatures
on two stilts with gas lamp head lights

Exploration of the dark below
as deep as ocean into the crust
calling cold and inhuman alacrity
fierceness of temple and focus
a primate in its ultimate state of hubris

Balking at stalactites in the night
unaware of precipice and landfall
keep a groping hand into the shade
where the palm is black as space

Holding no known life lines
or creases of age common on top
No markings of tribe and affiliation
merely simple belted-trudging
toward the center of the earth

The molten caravan to the middle
destined for the failure of the bit
Ever stronger than organic hands
the molten magma at the middle
stealthily evades a viewing by our kind