A stagnant pond
Surrounded by death,
Withered reeds rooted
To promises I've never kept.
The fishes of thought have flipped,
Baring their bellies to sunlight's kiss.
My duckling of happiness has left,
Migrating away from this forest.
No ripples persist on the water's surface,
I skip rocks and always miss
The depths of my bliss.

I try to stir these thoughts
To give me what I lost. Instead,
Loneliness bursts forth like
Swans growing from my head.

-SLuR