And so I dive
deep into those scrawling symbols
representing lives lived not my own
but known.
Diving down, kicking there, leaving here--
eyes stinging and lungs burning--
but stop, no. I hurry, striving deep
within to find the light those lives keep.
For my own stolen after offered,
stolen quickly, simply, dejectedly
plunging my way into darkness
complete and blinding.
And so I dive
deep into these scawlen symbol
representing lives lost, never to be known,
my own.
