The Psyche stumbles, as rainfalls descend,
it stumbles into a lake of darkness.
Gradually, I sink into endlessness,
this submerging force drowns me, as if damned,
the algid waters bone-chill my system,
I know I drown, yet I feel no motion,
I descend, yet the waters are even.
Atypical misery, my thoughts condemn,
The moist darkness chokes, like the fumes of jest,
the voices chatter with laughter, I cry,
I drown to escape? Nay! no route to try.
The waters are no saviours, only pests.
Then do the shackles rive, I now swim on,
I battle waters, voices, gain motion.
By: Anthony Oluwatamilore Daniel