I stood at the entrance

Afraid to walk in

The smell of sulfur and death

Was embedded with sin

I peek around the opening

And throw my backpack inside

Just in case something was waiting

I somehow wished not to die

And then I heard a horrible sound

One of pain and remorse all around

The scratching it produced was with fingernails on tin panels

With a slight hiss and a low growl

This was one appointment I would cancel  later but now