You and I,
Submerged in the depths of Emotion.
A bed where nothing rests.
The world murmurs around us.
Bubbles, instead of words float out,
Rising from the bottom of their lungs,
Aching and struggling,
Trembling and hopeless,
Wishing to say something.
But how can they?
The dense aqua air that surrounds us all,
Makes our words too heavy,
Makes our emotions too thoughtful,
And in essence,
Nothing is said;
Nothing is heard.
And we lay there,
Eyes shut tight,
Our hands held even tighter;
On the murky mattress of misled musings,
You and I lay;
Defeated in our spirits,
We endlessly wring out the last speck of warmth
From the duvet of our dreams that died young,
Covered in lattices of thorny reality,
And prickly practicalities.
Staring at the starry surface of the sea,
Which engulfs everything,
And births all,
You and I lay,
And in essence,
Nothing is said;
Nothing is heard.
Life takes many forms.
None is venerable,
Nor worth condemning.
For the terrors of this eternal sea,
Are ours.
Inseparable from us,
As the gust of breath is,
From everything mortal.
Snatch those horrors away,
And Death rules;
An eternal darkness then spreads;
A darkness so blinding,
That it leaves no room for Light to stretch its wings.
So,
If suffocating and gasping,
And grabbing onto sharp-edged,
Drowning rocks,
Covered in the slippery moss of human hopes,
Is Life,
Then Fate leaves us no choice,
But to drown.
To let the triumphant ocean of Life,
Fill our lungs completely,
Till there is no more Life left to conquer.