In Those Lonesome Depths
Within the skeleton of an un-awakened child, a chill seeps deeper
Like the wind that drifts aimlessly through a violet night
Subtly, as intangible as ether itself
Passerby without a gleaming glare,
It submerges into abysmus seas,
Watching ripples left atop the surface of expansive water
By those who’ve even yet to toe-water-test.
Too fearful,
Others dare not send down a hand
Lest they sink themselves
And fade into its labyrinth
More accessible to them
Is a belief in horrific isolation
Where the sunken are ill
And the floating are sane
Yet, the peace of textured seas and their auroric under-skin
Make elegance of the murk
Push, pull
A desire strung upon fishing line
To swim with comradery
A never-ending search to understanding the mysterious deluge
And to meet that which hides in the shadows
With love
But some will never tumble into the flow of this world
And continue their search from the comfort of surfaced sailing
Unable to satiate the thirst of their spirit,
For the dread that in those lonesome depths
They may actually quench it