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The Pool


With the words of hell

stuck on the edge

a downward spiral

blade's edge precipice

looking down

to where it all began

the blood-stained waters

he once swam

his feet split open

his soul cut twain

the escapeless nightmare

mocking disdain

Looking up

it's all the same

an endless razor

and no escape

no lavish ladders

no open doors

no beaten paths

or sunbaked roads

just old marks

from where he stood


and fell before

He's tired now

ages unkind

thinks of something

become nothing

in his mind

a ticket here

a spot to sleep there

it's all the same

pointless anywhere

He closes his eyes

can't remember old dreams

though he tries

He tilts off the edge

and falls

He longs to rest

from the pains

out and in

as living has become

day of waiting

for it to end

in the place it begins

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The Pool
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