The walls are jagged, dusty if you lean on them.

Damp from groundwater seeping through.

Moss would grow happily if the sun was around.

But it is void of life and dull.

If one follows the side of the strangely hewn wall

It would lead into darkness and dampness again.

The slight vision one gets when the eyes adjust

Is not enough to remove the shadows from the corners.

There are no lights in this distant place,

He hopes to make that change soon.

If he can make it livable, it just might work.

Then all the lost can come to this place.

While traversing and exploring

He will eventually find a cavern

That in the hustle and bustle of the underground

He will call home.

He will work and toil for hours

until his hands are sore and tired.

But he will be happy.

No one will blacken his name ever again

He will keep an existence all of his own.

Living in a world of peace and quiet rest.

He did not run from Above, for that is a coward.

He only gave it the respite it wanted from his existence.

It did not want him or love him,

And he gladly left its light behind.

Full of fear and anger and injustice,

not things that he missed or desired.

He worked until he had achieved a goal,

that goal was a dwelling for likeminded folks.

And they lived.

In peace,

In solitude,

Not in a carefree world,

For terror still found it's way to the shadows.

But it had to leave when its hatred was done,

because below was not made for it's darkness.

He lived and they lived in a world of the different,

He found a place far away from its sorrow that he and his friends could call home.