Beneath a turned stone,
you see us scatter.

In the realm of lights-outs and pitch-blacks,
a borough infested, now coloured hazel
and cast into the obscure.
A new world turned inside-out,
a haven upside-down.

We retreat from collision and of collapse
as our dividing landscapes betray us,
rid of light yet chasing the shadow.
In mud, we bathe;
upon another, we climb.

Crumbling sounds shiver us from within
as declining space starts to suffocate.
Though, weep not for I’m but contagious.
Deluded and misconfigured,
fleeting repellents, in need of contamination.

Colour, colour.
The end I see through colours.

In the sea of aged descension,
debauchery of tortoises and sea horses,
afloat bottoms up.

With fleeting corals,
wilted they wane,
a familiar millet stops by.

Seeping ashes I breathe in,
treacherous flames I shan’t squelch,
left nothing but void to differ the abyss
from an unfathomable surface.

Tidal deluge washes away.
Deprive me of thy momentum,
for I no longer swim.