where would we be without these anchors?

Sometimes I don't even know how to express how I feel in words. I can often describe it by envisioning an image in my mind. I don't know if that's normal or not, nor do I really care. Right now I can picture an uninhabited, dark, overgrown forest where it is always night. Not even the lowest of rodents desire to live in this place. Somewhere deep within forest there is an old abandoned well from another lifetime. Maybe even another world. The well is too deep to find the bottom and if you fell down you would certainly meet your death. It's consumed by cobwebs and an old mouldy stench that would make you gag. Every now and then a stone unhinges itself and falls to its demise. You don't even hear it hit the bottom. When it rains the well gleefully fills up with water in the hope of drowning its next victim. It's a vicious cycle and is filled only with pure evil. If the forest was to be cleared the well would be a feared landmark associated with horror stories or ghosts and death. And it would smile at the thought of fresh blood and emit the facade of welcoming friendliness. Even if you filled it in, the fill would erode away and the well would be present once more. For some things are always horrifically permanent, even if they disappear at the surface from time to time. Darkness will always consume. - Amor e morte