Swimming the Dark Sea
Such pain, such pain this poor heart's born,
with so little pleasures in return,
much gifts it has bestowed, unearned
now, here it lies; morose, forlorn
Alas, alas, what curse has brought this
wrath upon such an innocent soul,
its spirit broken by this tragic role
like Atlas or more so, Sisyphus
Fall down again from feet to knees
to plumb the dark and dreary depths,
the length and seemingly infinite breadth
of this warm, salty sea of self-pity
These murky waters, born from tears
these waves and tides that chop and churn,
these silent sobs leave one to yearn
for one small thing; a tender ear
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