You are momentarily blinded as the vehicle powers up; all the lights suddenly flash before dying down to a normal level of brightness. To see actual light, however, after so long of this visible darkness guiding your way, is different and odd. It feels like you are being changed. It sends a cold breeze down your spine causing your hair to stand up.
But the car moves. It slowly creeps along the rail, around the large pit and down into the pit, carefully scaling the pit’s circumference.
Looking out the window, you see the immense magnitude of the pit. It must be hundreds of meters in any direction. How deep you cannot tell as the pit’s bottom is obscured by non-visible darkness.
Words beam into view.
“To Heav’n. Their martyr’s blood and ashes sow / O’er the all th’Italian fields where still doth sway”
[“To Heav’n” is emblazoned across the pit vertically in gigantic letters. It covers nearly all of which you are able to see on the contrary side of the pit. In comparison, the other words appear tiny. “Their martyr’s blood and ashes sow” outstretches and descends down three levels of the winding rail, each word appearing on a deeper level. This way it is harder for you to interpret, though not impossible as it merely is a visual trick. “O’er the all” connects like a chain from the end of “sow”; since “sow” is on the same level as you, “O’er” acts as the connecting clause allowing “the all” to nearly touch your rail car in this moment of transportation. “th’Italian fields”, then, obscures your front window as the words imprint on it. “where still doth sway”, meanwhile, manifests within the conductor’s compartment and its manifold tools which control the car. You must be careful when you interpret, you realize, for a wrong move here may destroy your ability to use the car in the future.]