PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'm drifting downwards

Like some dead fish, picked at and bony

Leaving the last of that dimming light

Towards the dwellers in the deep

Into an abyss of pressure

Into an abyss of cold

Into an abyss with no sun



I fall



But down here

We feed each other, us dead and dying

And the warmth from that harsh light... keep it

We dwellers in the deep

We are strong under pressure

We don't so much mind the cold

And we make our own light



Rob Crocker © 2009