O murky depths,
you mesmerize;
you pull me places
I despise.
Your vortex calls,
compelling sound –
but if I choose,
I need not drown.
Your siren song
is but a lie,
a quick-fix hoax,
a warring cry.
You seek to drag
me to my grave;
I will not bow,
or be your slave.
Lungs inhale
and drown dry
in murky places
flooded by drought.
Doubts rise,
mercurial deadfall
trapped in curdled chaos,
where dreams sink dumb-founded.
Panic
routs Freedom
until the Peacekeeper
is breathed in,
exhaled slow,
invited into capillaries,
sweet oxygenated blood
to cover
desperate respiration.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 