They Must See!
Shallow breaths take strides in this pit of agony,
Grasping onto what little else remains,
The stones drift past the blinking eyes of my children.
Floods wash away all sins,
Great hands reach into oceans and feel the rotten foam,
Holding my hands over your eyes,
Wailing to the sky,
Purple and yellow,
God forgets what lies at the end of the fishing rod.
-to feed my burning stomach-
Very great noises wash over the corners of a mountain,
You wait for me there,
I see the yellowed shadows of the horizon.
Yell at the top of your lungs,
Look past the sanctity of water placed in your hands by another,
And follow your heart now free and whole.
Lose it all,
To gain true life:
Accept your humanity and drown a failure.
The rocks feel cold in the great depths of the Atlantic,
But form is true beauty and excellence,
Do not blind the children.
They must see!