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