Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Poem #528

Watery Grave

The stony cold lonesome stretches for miles on end,
Dark blue expanse with so many unseen terrors.
Sloshing, rushing quickly past both my ears,
Drowning me in a cacophony of mystical voices.
My limbs thrash about, quickly yet oddly calm,
As I wander around, feeling my way through the dark.
Pushing against the thick walls, I move forward,
Propelling myself through the world below us.

Unseen voices speak my name, calling out to me.
From all direction their phrases sound, whispering.
Featureless bodies stream all around me,
Their smooth scales brush softly against my skin.
I reach out again as if I can feel the path,
Just as a pain begins to build up in my chest.
Something is pressing down on me, closing me in,
And I need to breath, I need some air.

Wrenching my eyes open, I can see all around me,
Eyes and throat stinging with the scratching of salt.
And though I am losing some battle with nature,
I feel oddly at peace as I fall farther under.
Tangled amongst the tendrils of slippery plant life,
Giving myself up to the bed of ocean floor, sinking down.
Letting go of my breath, the rest of my life and world,
And allowing the grave of water to settle over top of me.

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