Something you might recognize

I think you might recognize this poem if you've kept up with my blog long enough to know what my first post was... this is that poem, but updated. The last post is the longest short story I've written in years, and I'm actually somewhat proud of it in places. Well, here goes...

Rumble (Now bigger and better)

by: David Mathis

A bright-shining flare sparked the depths.

Four men pushed deeper into receding blackness;

Shadows slithered away from the light and into cracks like

Tails formed of tremendous earthen serpents.

Down the four men spiraled—through twisted caverns.

Inky blackness billowed around them, fighting the

Bright heat of the beacon, struggling with weak,

Colorless arms to embrace just one of the four.

The walls grew algid and smooth as the inside of a conch.

Each of the four felt a shiver; bleached and dull,

The walls were as coral and the ceiling was full of stalactites.

They bore down like hundreds of rows of jagged teeth.

The flare choked and died—the four men were plunged into darkness.

One of the four fell, gashed against the salty rocks.

Tendrils encircled, squeezed—he struggled—his insides tore.

A trident thrust, a shriek, the striking of a match.

The four were two, an island amongst the red foam.

Fear washed over them, rocked them like boats.

As they clutched their spears, they stood stricken,

paralyzed, their eyes darted and their feet sloshed through the damp ground.

The torch fell silent, the room murky and dark. Serene.

A calm quiet passed over the two remaining men; a gentle

Feeling of soft undertow pulling them to something. The smell of grassy meadows warmed

Them as they shivered and slipped beneath the waves of consciousness.

The dark of night engulfed the two men.

A roaring filled the air, receded, roared again.

Their bodies became brackish and calcified as they tumbled in the wake

Of what once was and what would never again be.