The Valley

The valley is low
Dark
Forbidding.
Sunlight hides its face
In the valley.

There are no travelers.

It is a bleak
Geography
And few that enter
Emerge.

Gentle slopes
Hide its nature.
There is no water
In the valley
No refreshment
Or places
One may rest.
Sulfur bubbles
In rivers of sorrow
There.

The valley’s shade
Is a living thing
That wraps about
One's mouth
Crawls down his throat
Sucking life
From his soul
Depositing the parched remains
Like carrion.

The gold sought
Crumbles to dust
In the valley.

You are warned
Do not go
In the valley.

It has a population
Of
One.