The musty room at the bottom of the stair,
Shivers at the creepy crawlies there.
Spiders, beetles, silver fish,
An entomologist's fondest wish.

A specter with phobia intact,
Beggingfor existence back.
Creaking steps walking the gauntlet,
Anxiety, as if a ghost could sweat.

Only regrets found at journey's end,
Bitterness, I deserve to do it again.
And yet resigned, too late to repent,
Pondering life selfishly spent.

Cement floor opening wide,
Showing more stairs inside.
Stifling the scream,
At the oily stream.

Creepy crawlies pour,
From the crack on the floor.
Welcome wagon's wishing well,
For the descent to hell.