The pool becomes a canvas, whitening all the scars that hurt

The pool becomes a canvas, whitening all the scars that hurt, Allowing you to escape from the shadows that hide easily beneath the foam, As if the stains of being touched, wounded, and haunted, Had melted into the silent water that embraced you. As the heavy weight fills your lungs with silent water, A strange clarity emerges, drowning out lost lights and music, Creating a silence where everything fades, disappears, In that submerged realm where an appearance of lucidity appears. Here, every molecule of water becomes a silent story, Where the sounds of the world are distant memories, a fading echo, The soul, stripped of the day's burden, finds cold comfort, And in this silence, time stretches, and thoughts fly. It's a slow dance of shadows and light, where outlines disappear, The entire existence reduces to long breaths, which slowly unravel, Each rising bubble carries hidden desires, dreams, In that fluid silence, lost fragments of self are found. Thus, in the depths where the world forgets to seek or call you, You find refuge, a sanctuary of pure silence and forgetfulness, For at least an eternal moment, the scars become old shadows, And you, reborn from the waters of silence, rise prepared, To face the noise and light above with a whole soul.