What have I done? What people see in me?
Fearing my devil self I slept.
Shivering and sinking in my dark saline waters
No one could see when I wept.
A product of that rock, and countless other stones
Pushed into my invisible lake bed.
Now I dive into lakes, help pull out their rocks
Untangle the vicious vines making locks
Abstain however, from letting them step into my mud
They’re alien to the nature of my spikes that crave blood.
I might poke in their thighs, as they swim, till toes peel off their flesh
But within my vast, black waters, I won’t see their dead mess.
So, I barricade my banks, which if they climb, I awkwardly flea
Till another lake, equally dark, doesn’t ask, she jumps into me.
She swims fearlessly through the grit so deep, to a depth, forgot I felt
Curving around the spikes, like a luminant mermaid, in my dark bed she dwells
Worried ‘how did you survive the dark poison? Snakes and spikes’?
She opens herself, like a beautiful black peacock, she’s made of the same likes.
I stand on her edge, staring into that endless blur…
It’s going to be alright, she tells me, I think to myself. I jump into her.
We spend time in each other, getting brighter by the days
Moving rocks, helping recover, so our soft lake bed, again touches the sun rays.
We walk! Open up, smile, laugh, cry. We play.
And that’s how, changing shades, forever after we stay.
I threw a stone in that puddle, and it was bothered.
But then...it quickly calmed down.
I saw it ripple and splash, and yes, I felt better
But wait, I didn’t hear the pebble’s landing sound.
How deep could she be? Certainly less than me!
She didn’t understand my thoughts after all.
When I helped her, when I cried, when I said it all loud,
She just turned around and continued her stroll.
Why not the sound? Must be the mud, the dirt, the rot!
Which that shallow hole, can surprisingly carry a lot.
Which she sugarcoats to deceive with her lashes and pout
And I, the simple, pure....from my depth, I see a rot sprout!
Black bubbles rise from the giant rock in me. I grow stale and dark.
The spikes protrude from the surface of my lake,
Grow deeper like roots into my heart
I look at myself, her, and me again,
Can’t tell the difference apart…
The Koi are dead, choking on the grit, the venom that spreads around
I feel different, not much from her, but new, I hear hissing sound.
Its dissolving in me
Not who I want to be
I let her go in peace
That ends the story
Of her and me.
No light can enter, I’m opaque and corrupt
But my eyes, I can see it more clear
What I did to that beautiful dark lake
What I thought of her? A puddle? I shiver with guilt and fear.
My knees feel weak, my wings are sore, but I manage to swim out and fly
Is it just us, or the air is such, we all reflect the same sky.
The world I saw, once made of some lakes, more puddles
I see it again, feel their pain. They’re all just lakes with rubble.
What if I throw a stone in that puddle?
Will she be bothered? Or will it be vain?
Maybe a hunk on a bike will ride over it,
And my little pebble will be out again.
What is it even, compared to the rock
The thick black dense mass she threw in my lake
Its rough, gritty edges, toxic spikes hurt my fish
My waters will take forever to smoothen its shape.
I’ll throw in my pebble anyway, as hard as I can!
Might not hurt you much. Maybe you’ll ignore its impact
I know it won’t stay there, nor will I...still sad.
But even if for some time, it’ll calm my waves
To see it make you ripple, to see your puddle splash.
And it won’t kill your fish. That depth can’t sustain life...
But, here! I throw the stone anyway, hoping to end the strife.