Down, Down

Into the unknown, faster and faster
Down, down, into places of doubt

Into the unknown, faster and faster
Down, down, into places of doubt
To dark situations we cannot master
Into places no one warned us about⠀

Coming, coming, that terrible sound
Noises we’ve never heard before
Unintelligible whispers, all around
Moment by moment, more and more⠀

We know not what comes, only that it’s nigh
No more information do we possess
Just a powerful dread that soon we shall die
But when or how we can only guess⠀

This must be hell; nothing else can explain
The terror, the darkness, all the confusion
Rattling through the addled brain
It’s impossible to reach any other conclusion⠀

Only hell holds such a perpetual wait
Leading only to more frightened delay
We must be the damned who repented too late⠀
And here, in hell, we now must stay⠀

And yet, we’re wide awake, enough to discuss
What we don’t know and we’re able to curse
The fear of whatever makes its way toward us
If this isn’t hell, it’s something much worse

©2026 Kevin Trent Boswell

From the book Out on the Killing Floor – Bleak, dark, dismal, apocalyptic poetry of the most depressing possible variety – The end of all life on Earth & other children’s stories

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Author: Kevin Trent Boswell

Kevin Trent Boswell is a thing that once blinked briefly in and out of existence. It made noises and gestures while it lasted. The exact nature of its demise is unclear. Some sources say it collapsed beneath the weight of entropy and time. Other tertiary evidence suggests the possibility that it was destroyed by a predator, an accident, or perhaps even by itself. The truth of the matter is unknown. Luckily, no one cares.

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