He reads clouds in the sky,
sees wind's great works of art.
Bobbing gently through each wave,
While he floats and dreams in a lake,
secretly seaweed wraps around his body.

Foggy underwater waves make his mind,
body, and lungs set desperatley fighting
in a breathing brought war of water and air.

The boy is drowining, an idyllic dream
landscape lake turned into a nightmare.

Slowly as seaweed and currents bring
his body to the dark depths of the lakescape,  
malice endrapes itself through
one ear and out of the other; fate.

The bubble blood life force of the boy from air,
turns slowly to liquid, and his ghost dissolves.

Coldness lingers and clawing weakly
through frictionless water,
lake bottom hits and frozen fingers.

This boy's brain beginningly starts
disentigrating as it processes
the trickle drip
flow and ebb of
lake currents that sound
and surround each thought.

He remembers each
whispering wave
telling him to get in,
with the sun beating down,
the enticement to drown.
And his mother's voice
yells to him from a
heavenly place,
but he knows his watery
tomb will become ear muffs
for his mother when the
depths
finally win:
will his life force to its bitter end.

Back on black lake mud,
and the sun framed in waves
in the glowing waters above.
And the tangled arms of seaweed
beckon those that leasure
on the surface.

Childhood faces and
feel good places
dissapear from his mind.

At the bottom of the lake,
this boy becomes himself,
with the world's first hinting
of trauma, he let his naivity die  
in a dramatic show, body blows
and a new manifesticity to sit by.

With each inhale of water,
this kid's childhood dies.
And by the time he resurfaces,
he has lost what it means to be alive.