Thoughts while your drowning
The Depths of Darkness
Down in the depths of darkness and cold
how do you tell the young from the old.
Have you no fear in your happhazard haste
of being a fly in sticky white paste.
See the warm sunshine that rests in the skies,
feel the hurt when a small child cries.
Birds of the twilight are silent in flight
and hasten to cloak their locations tonight.
Are you a poet of thoughts so profound
or a child of wind that can't hear a sound.
Time for your saving dwells now in the past
and all of these thoughts will soon be your last.
You are a lost soul who's on their way down,
to weak to swim but ready to drown.
You're too busy drowning and air's hard to hold.
Still you will question, " What was it I sold?"
Cometh the Horseman in a cold winters breath,
dragging you slowly down the depths to your death.