Far away, I see a man
Standing tall on rocks of sand.
Careful not to move or breathe.
Fearful of what may break beneath.

He sees me, too,
Wading in a pool of blue.
Here I have stood for years,
Now tired from all of my fears.

The water whispers my name,
Saying I am not to blame.
She offers me rest.
And lulls me to take one last breath.

But the man warns me to keep my head above,
Warning me of the devil’s dove.
If I die, so will he; even now, we totter
Scared, I may drown in three feet of water.