Cave man

 

I stepped up to the mouth

of the dark hole,

a flicker catching my curious

necessity for heat 

as in a fondness for friction

something strong stirs

in this cave

I come to find

as my eyes adjust

not some majestic dragon

as projected upon the moist stone wall

but a shriveled and scarred ogre

unseen to himself and flesh burnt

by the venomous flames uncoiling

from his own sharp tongue

lashing.

The smoke and singe surround every crevice

a decrepid and deathly stench 

steams from his chest where 

his heart rotted in the darkness

called some body and vacant vessel

vulnerable and afraid 

of all the elements

that make 

a man. 

Photography: Albert Grünwedel (July 31, 1856 – October 28, 1935), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.