Gliding through a sea of murky water
Skeletal remains float
Their screams caught, transfixed
As they bob in the cauldron
Of turmoil and dread
A lifetime of sin
Reduces them to little more than floating debris.
Above them, Charon
Sweeps his mighty oar
Silently through their masses
He does not see them
Merely passes on
Moving the boat forward
Over the River Styx
Most days his cargo wails
Or pleads for mercy
But today his passenger
Stands firm
Her eyes taking it all in.
There is no revulsion
No judgement in her gaze
Only curiosity stirs in the depth
Of her eyes.
She stands tall and resolute
Her soft gray cape
Keeping her regal white robe
Untarnished and unspoiled.
Why does she come here?
Seeking out Hades within the Underworld.
What drives her to lower herself
To this place so dark and dank.
Is she a sacrifice?
Or does she come with a pure heart
On an errand to save the world?
Whoever comes to this place
Rarely leaves
But she does not seem concerned
Her stance does not waver.
Instead she watches
Taking it all in
Without letting it eat at her
Or etch her soul.
She rides through the mists
Like a beacon
Observing the place
With an objectiveness
That only a writer can sustain.
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