I stare into the abyss
of the fluidity showing my reflection,
feeling nothing but the cruel wind against my face,
yet nothing lasts forever, and forever is nothing.
I am deserted but for my own image
staring straight back at me, unmoving, unforgiving.
The water beckons me to come closer
to distort my only companion;
to feel the icy grip of death.
I realise how quiet it is
with no mechanical faces directed at me.
My isolation is short lived
As I watch a soaring feathered hunter
swoop from Heaven to take vermin life.
It strikes me how it is unfaltering, unforgiving
like nature itself.
Yet it isn’t respected, isn’t noticed.
It has much more power than the pathetic life
of anybody who thinks that they are somebody.
All that is fair must fade, and all that are loved must diminish.
I stare into the abyss
of the fluidity showing my reflection,
waiting for my saviour to swoop down from heaven,
although they could already be walking this land
unknown and unloved, seeking the very same joys.
We are took from this world
with so little seen and so little done.
The most beautiful things can remain unknown, unloved,
So many square inches of the ocean of your eyes
and the earth of your skin lie unseen and untouched.
I am not alone, but in public solitude.
Faces don’t disguise their pity anymore;
mechanical smiles no longer hide their true revulsion.
They must think it odd
to find someone alone, but for this beautiful scene
…unnatural.
Yet this is where I love to go,
it is the most natural part of life that I know,
and so I will admire this solitary beauty
and ignore the mechanical mouths smiling pseudo-merry.
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