follow me down the rabbit hole-

are you ready?

are you holding on tightly?

you must be careful

for a mind is a precious thing to waste.

you sure?

down the rabbit hole-

a dusty rug of soil leads you down, unrelenting-

blinding colours+ dazzling lights of diamond patterns -- fly quickly by

we land with a thud on a carpet of dirt.

sinister shadows grimace and wink out from hidden corners of the circle

the blackened spot we've landed ...

a light falls upon the scenery!

nearby are seen bejeweled trees of the most sultry blue crystal

whose branches sway lightly in the breezeless air.

as quickly as the traitor has given their position, it's taken it back.

you tiptoe over to the trees and-

what's this?

they're gone ... but did you even see them in the first place?

after all, there was no wind.

the feeling you get when some unseen prowler is staring at you-

do you feel it now?

the masked culprit stares unblinkingly;

revealing only his smile to you--

a smile which seemingly holds no meaning, and yet everything-

the secrets of the world. of this world.

are you ready?

this twisted promise an invitation back-

for your time is up, and i must bring you home.

the grin is gone; his message sent ...

what is that you hear off in the distance?

a tea party?

silly girl; of course that wasn't a tea party; don't be ridiculous!

would any sane being do such things?

the busy whistle of a tea kettle snorts with laughter at the very thought.

make haste now; i'm late!

follow the yellow brick road-

oh dear, i'm sorry; i've gotten my rabbit holes crossed.

here, i'll lead you along by the trees--

did i say trees?

nonsense; there are no such things!

you see the light, the one at the very bottom-

past the ground, in the blank nothingness?

the screeching, blinding whiteness.

its radiant hue will bring you back,

wrapped in warm monotony.

oh, me?

no, i remain in the rabbit hole-

and you'll come back soon!

for you are not quite ready yet- not quite there-

but when the noise becomes clearer-

a celebration surer perhaps a party, of sorts

and the grin less than a mask-

the rabbit hole will bring you back again.

i shall remain in the shadows alone

did i say alone? silly me

until then.