We walked through the dark, dusty cavern
Towards the light of a long forgotten tunnel
As the light grew closer and closer
We began to smell very familiar scents and odors
And yet, distinctly different smells at the same time
The temperature of the cave got much warmer the further I walked
With Brenda, my buxom, blond, dirt covered assistant following me
Closer and closer towards what seemed to be a never ending cave
Finally after what seemed like hours of anticipation
The two overly anxious underwater archaeologists crossed the threshold
In their dusty tank tops, shorts, miners helmets and scuba gear bags in tow
What lied before them, was far beyond either of their imaginations
Looking back their journey had took them from a hot tip from a Tibetan Sherpa
To this secluded lake, not found on any brochure, map or globe
They lugged the tiny boat for miles, upon miles, upon miles to their destination
Once there, they rowed the boat to the island in the center of the lake and dove in
This poem is property of Anthony W. Pawlowski and can not be replicated in any way shape or form. This representation is for viewing only and is Copywritted 2011.
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