This isn't the remedial rhythm your grandfather told you he listened to when he was a lad
This rhythm is the sole possessor of unfathomable depths
A melodic perception of what awaits at the steps of cognitive pools
Each bubble coalesces at the apex and pops with a reckless flush
Liquifed sound scatters and turns to dust
You can hear it on your skin
It's slight
But you can almost decipher what that muse was mouthing before you took the dive
Warning: Contents under forever
Sand does not absorb these notes
Infinitesimal grime only shocks and provokes
Until the boiling point is reached
The clock will strike half past infinity before you can even see
Your reflection's hymn ripple across the well of eternity