deepundergroundpoetry.com

Dead Sea

Soon the green will turn a sour brown
And perhaps erode into red
As I step into the my own version of the shadow of death
Facing the ferryman
In black cloak
Shy one gold piece
Not enough to get through River Styx
But enough to hold me
in suspended animation
without water
Observing the activities around me
Without the participation
That my purpled crown is willing
To engage in its comforts
Yet, this necessary journey
To detain my impulses
Down to the white bone
And observe them along with my surroundings
And cultivate a new understanding
As I seed the moist soil
With green leaf
Is my hope
Written by drunkenplaywords
Published
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