Down the stairs I go.

Descending down one step at a time not knowing where I am going.

Every one else is ignoring my decent.

What is down these stairs?

With each step down the lights get dimmer and the air is colder.

Hope leeks upward with each breath of this chilled miserable air.

The stairs are riddled with dirt, dusty remains of dreams, and the rotting carcasses of joy.

Do I dare keep going down these stairs, do I just fall off, or do I just lie down and blend in with the rest of the dirt?