We All Float

In the tenebrous, xenial realm of the lake, where human cadavers oscillate, suspended by verdigris chains, a lamia of unholy provenance, orchestrates a gambits cavalcade. Each mortal she ensnares, a lugubrious, ghoulish spectacle unfolds, as if the very essence of the lake itself had been vitrified, its aqua viscera now Elysian repository of forgotten, memento mori-bund. Haunting gaze, a diaphanous, cerulean abyss, draws in the unwary, like a siren's deadly, mellifluous call, beckoning them to surrender to the lake's funereal, abyssopelagic depths. Her raven tresses, a susurrant undulant cascade of nocturnal umbrageous beauty, frames a visage pulchritude dolorous dirge, an oxymoronic, surreal juxtaposition of the celestial and the sepulchral. As she traverses through the lake’s tomblike, profound silence, her every stride, a calculated, deathly, stiffened rhythm, stirs up a whirlwind of syrupy, piscine abominations, skulking beneath the surface, their gelatinous, depths forms writhing, akin to some perversely, marine, infernal mockery of a waltz. In this eerie aquiline lacustrine domain this being reigns supreme an anathema, a brobdingnagian female personification of these dark bubbling benthic, viscous, and malevolent sentience, a monstrous xenophobic quintessentially wraithlike entity, forever doomed to haunt the twilight, abyssal, and dreamlike shores of the lake of human mines.