To most, it shall be unseen;
an inverted layer of dark matter
scored by an unresting hand,
willed by a thirst for knowledge.

Echoing droplets bleed, trailing
down, off the cracked cold stairwell
to brittle black bone below:
unborn infants, spine and skull.

A contorted stream rushes sideward,
frothing down to an unseen abyss,
as someone closens, climbing hastily,
formless, without optical presence,

Clambering still towards the light.