Far below where the common-folks go
Are basements and caverns and holes
Barred and chained at the top
Meant to keep prying eyes out
For the safety
of the wives and children
But curiosity kills the cat
So crafty minds pick and pry
Try to loosen chains
and unlock locks
And attempt to peek
behind the walls
That forbid the seeing.
When the maelstrom rises
And dismay abounds
When the dust has settled
And order resounds
The clear eyed sleuth
Can then clearly tell
The abyss was secured
From below, from hell.