In The Dungeon Poem by Justin Gildow

In the dungeon
Spiked traps fall in intervals from above
Poison also drips from above
Chains and dead prisoner's bones rattle
throughout
Dirty and diseased water in these foundations
runs along
Swords and sharp objects fall from above as
I walk into their range
Into their sights and their path
Stone bridges fall apart or disappear as I run
and jump across
Skeletons and skulls pile up in the background
Making not at all a sound
While bricks in the wall are rotten and moldy
Coffins are old and almost worn

Making my way past them is a challenge
in the least
But surviving them all
And moving toward the east
There's satisfaction in it all