Rush. Hush.

Groping in a tunnel, Hear

A voice

Few cautious steps

Stumble

Falling again

A familiar drop. The same

old 

rush

Glimmers of light

TEASE. Closed,

empty fists

Scream.

Solitary echo.

Hit the bottom, it

Hurts

Alone.

No flashes, deathly

Silence.

Something rots.

Need to

Flee.

Again.

Can't always be

Groping

In a tunnel.