What Would It Be Like

What would it be like to drift among a river of leaves, Murky waters like oil or a storm colored sky, Silent, but in its way loud with whispers, And reality has all but been left behind among the trees. What would it be like to sink away from the world? A pen dipped in ink and losing its tip, Hitting a black dust bottom, Swirls of sound twirling aimlessly, ascending, But yet no movement needed once. What would it be like to not have to breath, Not have to eat or drink, Exist among the things that trip on unseen limbs, While you float in absent space. To drown and to float, to let it all go, Away with the current, A cleansing of the soul. Do you know what it would be like to sleep? Every sense turned mute, Sinking deeper and further, Until eventually you are another ripple in the river.