The tunnels hold endless light and
the refraction of that light in tiny pockets
whose size grows with each breath like black lungs
sucking in all the good air and exhaling only dust.

In each pool drowns a reflection of hungry starving animals no neater or orderly than these jagged walls
each one silent and making signs
with dirty hands scabbed over
clutching torches and spears and the bodies of those who may still make it out of the tunnels.

I will not.

I can see it in their over shoulder glances and under breath mumbles,
“This one is getting worse.”
“Leave him here and let us take his share.
Let us leave him in the tunnels.”