The Eel

Slithering in the depthless waters We find the eel—never blinking Rarely has he seen the sun Encompassed with mistrust He’s a soloist of the deep Calm burning in his soul, We find his home Serenely built on the quietude of his spirit He melts into his cold tunnels He’s the keeper of the ocean’s secrets Frowning and gaping He lifts his slimy head Watching the strangers swimming along Catching interest in one or two Only to assist them in knowing—he’s the devourer of whomever he pleases to overthrow He’s so unobtrusive, this little creature Yet fire seems to burn from within As if by coming a little closer… He’d reveal his secrets from beneath the fin In awe the eel will slither back in his throne of emptiness Silent desperation was never described so discreetly Yet he conquers all completely And survives longer than his kind could ever appreciate Soloist of the sea I doubt you desire me to observe Your slimy, despicable existence But you are worthy of acknowledgement— Much worthier than I myself For truly, my eely presence in these lines Is diminutive against your profound, human-like indifference