Salt: A Poem

Salt

My lungs collapse
Beneath the harsh,
The weight, the burdening plethora.
I thrash and tear,
Pulling my way up, up,
And skidding again into calamity.
The water crashes,
A deluge of depression
Pours in waves,
Filling my mouth, my nose,
My eyes, burning brine.
I close my eyes
Against the scalding surge,
Pull myself into smallness,
Stillness,
Nothingness.
I am floating,
No longer trapped in the darkness,
The cavern, the cave.
The ocean hangs beneath me,
Encompassing,
Enveloping,
Raging and singing at once.
Paradoxical,
Composed and lulling,
Rocking and drifting me into sleep,
Wild, thrashing,
A beast belaboring.
So thick the water,
Crushing, calming,
Blazing, bursting,
So cold and still a warm embrace.
The droplets dash against my eyes,
The flood is grim against my skin,
The swell, the sweep,
So fast and deep,
The salt rages,
Like a monster is the sea.
Alluvion.
I am overtaken,
Swept under the surface of blue,
Drawn down in the beryl current,
Into the bleak.
It is grey, colorless,
Lifeless.
Austere cliffs above the wild,
Empty, blighted, desolation.
It is dry,
So deadly devoid of life,
So very short of breath.
I gasp
And my very lungs shrivel,
Waste away and decay
Like the human medium they are.
My stomach contorts,
Vanishing with a wave of nauseous farewell.
I am disappearing
From the inside out.
So dry, so arid and still,
Dense air,
A desert is replacing my organs.
My bones crumble to dust,
Blowing away on the barren wind.
The caustic gusts squall,
Approaching my heaving heart,
That mortal mechanism
Which contains that final breath,
Transcending soul.
I cannot bear such searing pain,
The beating, breaking,
Smashing desert,
The instrument of dereliction,
Reaching towards my soul.
I writhe,
My legs convolute like dead leaves.
It is a torture,
Abrasive and acerbic,
Rotting my very self into death.
So dry,
The desert is a tempest of its own,
A deathly blow of anhydrous dust,
Crippling my arms into my chest.
My heart, my soul is ebbing,
Washing in,
Washing out, like waves,
Flickering with dimming light.
The ocean seems like lives away,
Worlds long dead,
So far behind.
The sea,
That raging beast of blue,
So pure and wild,
So savage, free.
I feel the sweet breath,
The heaving breath of ocean’s lungs.
The desert recesses,
Wanes away.
I can reach out my arms,
Grasp the edge of phantasm,
And feel the tide
Breaking over my ribs.
I inhale,
Respire,
The salt water seeps from my eyes.

©The Wild Poesy, 2012-2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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Salt: A Poem

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