Through fields I wandered, as the night was waning,
It was Maundy Thursday, dawn's light yet to break,
The sky above in darkness still remaining.
The faintest glow began the earth to wake,
As silence wrapped the world in quiet grace,
A sacred moment, night and day at stake.
Beside me trotted Fury, swift in pace,
A Labrador, with coat of gleaming black,
His sturdy form a blend of strength and grace.
His eyes, alert, caught every subtle track,
His tail a metronome of steady joy,
Through dewy grass, he cut a seamless path.
The air was cool, the morning's sharp employ,
As earth's fresh scent arose to greet my lungs,
While Fury dashed ahead, his nose in ploy.
With stick in hand, a simple branch among
The field's treasures, I called out to my hound,
His ears perked up, his eagerness unsung.
I cast the stick, it soared without a sound,
Above the grass, to where the forest lay,
And Fury sped with grace upon the ground.
The dawn's first blush now hinted at the day,
As darkness fled, replaced by hues of light,
A palette soft, where night and morning play.
He reached the stick, his heart in pure delight,
And turned to me, his breath in misty steam,
His tail in frenzied joy, a welcome sight.
"Good boy," I whispered, in the softest theme,
He leaned into my hand, content and warm,
"Again?" I asked, though his eyes were a gleam.
We played this game, our bond a gentle storm,
As toward the forest edge we made our way,
The trees ahead stood tall, their shadows formed.
The sun's first rays began to greet the day,
And light kissed grass with patches warm and gold,
While Fury paused, the forest to survey.
He turned to me, his eyes a story told,
Of eager wonder, seeking my consent,
I smiled at him, my heart with warmth controlled.
"Go on," I said, and into shadows sent,
He bounded forth, into the darkened wood,
Where leaves and branches wove their silent scent.
I followed him, as any good friend should,
The forest deepened, darkness cloaked the way,
Yet in that shade, I found my spirit stood.
The world was hushed, as night gave way to day,
With Fury by my side, my trust was sealed,
In this, our time, the dawn's embrace held sway.
Through shadows thick, our path was well revealed,
A sacred space where nature's rhythm played,
With each step forward, more of life we healed.
Deeper we ventured, through the woods so vast,
Upon the path where trees like sentinels stood,
Yet in my heart, anticipation cast.
A sense of something near, just out of sight,
As if the forest hummed with hidden might,
And every step brought closer what I could.
Lost in my thoughts, I strayed from path once known,
The ground grew rough, the trail began to fade,
Into a place where trees more thickly grown.
Their twisted branches formed a dark blockade,
The underbrush a tangled, stubborn maze,
Each step a struggle through the forest's shade.
But in the distance, through the trees' dark haze,
A clearing bathed in strange, unnatural light,
It pierced the woods like dawn's first morning rays.
Fury, curious, dashed with all his might,
His tail a blur as he ran toward the glow,
While I, with breath held tight, followed the sight.
My heart beat faster, every step more slow,
As light grew brighter, drawing me ahead,
What strange event could cause this forest show?
The trees gave way, and there the path did lead,
To where a scene unfolded, most bizarre,
A film crew worked, their lights and cameras spread.
I stood in shock, observing from afar,
As they set up, preparing for the shoot,
Their focus clear, their actions without mar.
Fury, undeterred, approached the group,
His friendly wag a greeting in the midst,
Of all their gear, his presence did uproot.
A woman laughed, her voice a gentle mist,
She knelt to greet my dog with open hand,
His joy so pure, no fear could there exist.
But soon a shout, an angry, sharp command,
Cut through the air, a young man full of rage,
He stormed across, his words a harsh demand.
"Whose dog is this?" his anger not assuaged,
As Fury sniffed, oblivious to ire,
The man's frustration like a fire engaged.
I stepped ahead, my voice a calm desire,
"Sorry, we stumbled here by mere mistake,"
Yet in my mind, concern began to mire.
For as I looked, I saw the fire they'd make,
The pile of wood, the can of fuel in hand,
A plan so reckless, risked the forest's stake.
"You know," I said, "this land is dry and fanned,
By winds that could ignite a wildfire's path,"
But he dismissed me with a wave, unmanned.
"Relax," he scoffed, his tone a mix of wrath,
"We're pros, we know just what to do," he claimed,
His arrogance ignored the coming wrath.
I tried again, my warning still the same,
Yet pride and youth had deafened both his ears,
And so they moved, continuing their game.
With every step, my rising dread, my fears,
The crew prepared, the fire stacked so high,
And soon the match was struck, the spark appeared.
The flame leapt up, a beast against the sky,
It roared with might, a fury uncontrolled,
The heat so fierce, it made the forest cry.
The girls in dresses stumbled back, so cold,
The terror in their eyes as flames arose,
The crew, in panic, fled from what they'd rolled.
And I, with Fury, felt the fire's close,
The heat a wall, a force we could not flee,
It surged toward us with a deadly pose.
The world around me blurred, no place to be,
The flames consumed, their hunger knew no bound,
And then, a flash of light—eternity.
--
The next I knew, from darkness I arose,
Emerging slow from void where terror dwells,
As if through thickened tar my limbs did close.
My senses clouded, like in deepest wells,
Where dream and waking life did intertwine,
Unsure if I had passed through death's cold bells.
The first to greet me was the earth's design,
The cold, damp soil pressed firm against my skin,
My body ached as though with time's decline.
I blinked and saw the fog that held me in,
A darkness thick, without a sense of time,
The world around me twisted, void of kin.
I pushed myself, though every move a climb,
My ribs cried out, each breath a jagged shard,
The forest loomed, a shadowed, silent chime.
Above, the trees entwined, their branches marred,
No light to pierce the canopy so dense,
As if the sky itself was caged and barred.
Then came a nudge, a warmth, a soft defense,
Fury's nose, a beacon in the night,
His dark eyes wide, reflecting my suspense.
"Fury," I whispered, though my voice was slight,
He nudged again, insistent, steady guide,
His fur beneath my hand a welcome light.
But where were we? In what deep pit did bide,
These walls of earth that rose to hem us in,
A fortress made of roots and stone and pride.
I tried to stand, though strength was wearing thin,
The ground beneath was treacherous, uneven,
And every step was fraught with fear within.
The walls were slick, the roots like serpents grieven,
Their coils ensnared the earth in tangled wrath,
Escape seemed but a dream, a hope deceiven.
Fury whimpered, tail between his path,
The brave dog trembled, senses all on edge,
I knelt beside him, soothing him in lath.
But words alone could not assuage the dredge,
The darkness pressed, a weight upon my chest,
As if the very air was sorrow's sledge.
Then in that blackness, light began to crest,
A flicker soft, yet growing ever bright,
It cut through shadows, ending night's long quest.
A figure neared, emerging from the light,
An old man draped in robes of ancient Rome,
His lantern high, dispelling fear and fright.
He moved with care, each step a measured tome,
His face was lined with age, yet wisdom shone,
As if he walked from out of time's own loam.
Fury, excited, left my side alone,
He bounded forth to greet this strange, new guest,
And wagged his tail as if with joy unknown.
The old man smiled, with knowing, warm, and blessed,
He knelt to greet the dog with gentle hand,
His voice a chuckle, low and soft, impressed.
I stood in awe, the scene beyond my stand,
As Fury wagged and danced around his feet,
This ancient figure, calm with light so grand.
"I've always had with dogs a kinship sweet,"
He said, his voice like leaves in autumn's fall,
His touch on Fury's head made peace complete.
I took a step, though cautious in it all,
"He seems to like you," words I barely found,
"A sign, perhaps, that fear is not my thrall."
He looked at me, his eyes with wisdom crowned,
"Aye, it is," he said with smile wide,
"For dogs can see in us what's truth unbound."
"I'm Durante," I spoke, my fear denied,
The need to introduce myself was strong,
Though why, I could not say, with him beside.
"Virgil," he answered, simply, nothing wrong,
As if his name alone could span the age,
And with that name, my memory did throng.
"Virgil?" I asked, as if to turn the page,
The Roman poet, famed through history's flight?
The name, the man, were both an ancient stage.
He saw the spark of recognition's light,
"Not like Virgil," he said with steady tone,
"But I am he, the poet in your sight."
His words struck hard, as truth became my own,
I stared at him, my mind a tempest strong,
"The Virgil, here?" I asked with doubt half-grown.
He smiled again, though grave as time is long,
"Not dead, dear Durante, but close to woe,
You walk the edge where life and death belong."
His voice was calm, but what he said brought snow,
A chill that ran from spine to heart and soul,
"What peril, what?" I asked in rising blow.
He raised his hand, as if to keep me whole,
"You've been brought here for reasons yet untold,
This place, this time, does not your world condole."
"You are not dead, though teetering on the fold,
Between the realms, where life and darkness meet,
A place where both the young and ancient hold."
I stared at him, my heart a pounding beat,
The world he spoke of, like a dream's dark seam,
"So I'm alive?" I asked, to be complete.
He nodded, slow, as if to ground the theme,
Then looked at me with eyes that knew all fear,
"I am your guide, but you must walk this stream."
"The path that we must take is far and sheer,
It leads through depths where shadows rise and fall,
The underworld, where truth is stark and clear."
The underworld—his words a dreadful call,
Yet in his gaze, I saw a strength in me,
And knew that I must rise, or risk a fall.
"If that's the way, then let it be,"
I said, though voice did shake with fear's dread clasp,
"For if this is the path, then I must see."
He nodded, firm, with understanding's grasp,
And with his hand, he brushed the dirt away,
"Come," he said, "and take my hand, to clasp."
He dusted off the remnants of the fray,
And spoke of things that chilled me to the core,
"The underworld is not as you might say."
"It's changed with time, now more than evermore,
It mirrors now the world in which you live,
Its shadows speak of darkness, but with lore."
He paused, his eyes a knowing glance did give,
The air around him shimmered, time did bend,
His form began to shift, to grow, to sieve.
The robes he wore, from ancient days did blend,
Became a suit, so sharp and dark as night,
A modern man, with history as friend.
His stick transformed, to something small and light,
A selfie stick, the lantern now a phone,
Its screen a glow, an LED's cold bite.
I stared in awe, this change to me unknown,
Yet Virgil stood as if he'd always been,
A man of time, yet timeless to the bone.
"The underworld," he said, with grave and keen,
"Is now a place of social media's might,
Where light and dark are tangled in between."
His words like ice, though true as winter's bite,
The shadows now broadcast for all to see,
Where truth and lies in endless cycle fight.
"Is this the underworld?" I asked, to plea,
"The place where souls are judged and tested so?"
"Yes, Durante, this is what it be."
"The underworld has changed with time's slow flow,
A mirror to the world in which you dwell,
Where darkness thrives in light's deceptive glow."
His words sank deep, like bells that toll death's knell,
The world he spoke of, one I'd always known,
But now I saw it clearer, sharp and well.
"So we descend into this place alone?"
I asked, though now my fear had found its form,
"No, we shall face it, but not on our own."
He took my hand, his grip was strong and warm,
And led me forward, into depths unknown,
Together through the dark, into the storm.