Harvest in June - Seagrave

The void gets closer, towards the edge

Silent and unseen, sabled and gnawing

At least no keeper of all these lost causes

As I stare in it, it stares back at me

Piercing glances, pitch black marble eyes

A slipstream disruptive, no man can oppose

Hurl my bones down there, throw them with great force

Show no mercy, the void gulps them down

I found no saviour in nothing, this world is a coffin

One moment to collapse, one to hold on

I cherish these thoughts across timeless seething waters,

may they swallow what the void left of me

Unlike the waves, these questions won‘t hush

Where will we lead to, where may we roam?

Confessions are made, but we won’t abide

We are quite restless, but all our heroes are dead

Graves at sea, graves engulfed by the abyss

No places known, where they can’t be found

I carry this burden, may I conk out

Cause even in lentic waters, I will bog down

Reeling creatures, suffocating in mire

Won’t be recognized, but wounds remain

Sanity is for the passive, the weak and tedious

Subside, sink deeper, sink… …or swim

Burning bridges seared to death whom they beared

I carry stones in my pocket to stand clear from the surface

The last rays of the sun, seem like distressed regards

Now finally receiving peace, in autumns early graves