Darkness

Darkness.
Flint in one hand,
Steel in the other.
Blind and still,
Within the giant powder keg.
A brisk scrape
Reveals the truth.
The door.
The Prize.
The truth is there.
Right there.
It haunts,
Intrigues,
But most of all,
Frightens.
Not the truth.
But the carnage.
We scrape gently.