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.