Going Down

Can a man go down among the dead? Can he lie in his oblong box – his long house forever, and be satisfied with never holding his heart’s desire? Will he be at home in the musty earth where the worm gropes in the dark and damp? Will he finally find that peace for so long sought, where he is alone in the cold and dark and damp. Will the grin of death begin to show on his placid face to any who might understand? Will it show to those that might understand? Is he hidden away so low, as low as he might go? But he was enjoying bright sunny days, and then the smell of acrid earth; so soon, all too soon