The days counting down,
People feel their tension free,
And hope builds again.
The day was misty,
For a while and then cloudy,
With a hint of sun.
The trap door opened,
WIth a creak and heavy thud,
And the air smelt old.
The old wooden steps,
Led down into thick darkness,
Their torches peering.
The light hit brickwork,
Down the sides and kept going,
Into this abyss.
So would they follow,
And explore the below ground,
Where there was no sound?
