Riding with Charon the Ferryman

Crossing the River Styx
With Charon as the ferryman,
They separate themselves
From the realm of the living
As they enter the portal
To a fading fossil fuel world.

Their bodies cool to the chilling wind,
Their heartbeats slowing as they
Travel downward so they
Can mine the carbon black diamonds
In gravel, in stones, in chunks
To bring to the surface
To heat hearths and homes.

Father and son traveling together,
Across the River Styx,
Breathing the vapors
of its poisonous water.
Coal dust. Fine yet gritty.
Blackening their lungs.
Stealing away their breath.
Gasping, coughing.

Paying the price for
Riding with Charon the Ferryman.