Dark walls

These are dark walls,
like the end of a dungeon,
hidden under well-shafts.
Remember the Enid Blyton tales,
where we sought refuge
from piles of grammar
and algebra formulas?
But these are dark walls.
Here, there is no refuge.
No Enid Blyton adventures
of the Wishing-chair
or the neatly-sorted mysteries.
The walls will remain dark here
and only minds and hearts
will fling themselves
against these walls,
in feeble hope
of breaking through
the black.
When the sun-dial is sans shade,
like vampires,
the end of the well
will be transformed to cinders.