There's something swimming down there.
Unseen, subcutaneous under layer and layer.
Malice in that silence,
venom in that stare.
laying in wait, to strike, break,split tear.

Peace as a siloullusion of the swelling act.
Waiting on reality's organic nascent,
unresolved affair.

Whatever it is that swims waiting for a chance,
in your terror askance.
Will soon break on out, too real for fiction:
to swallow you whole in it's gruesome glory.