Entering a new realm,
Things all around you see
That couldn't help but overwhelm

May it be as magical as a hippocampi
Or dark as the waves of sea at midnight
Or bright as a metal reflecting on sunlight
Or gardens filled with flowers that are ever so lovely
Or like a hay lost in a pile of pins
Or a place full of fragile ruins
Maybe like an old greek tragedy?
Whatever it may be,
It sure is more intriguing than reality

And as you go back:
All the images pulling back.
And as if with a snap,
You are back.

You close your eyes
engulfing yourself in the world fantasized
Everything vanishes;
And open them again,
You slowly see the world crystal clear then
two glasses making a clink,
As the ringing noise fill your ears:
you realize
All these realms and ruins
Were just paper and ink.

—a.c

She is the Angler's flooded candela.
Rotting in polished abalone opposing the currents.
Sheltered by the wretched Leviathan of vilified lore.
Now she is regarded amongst the caprella.

Rhapsodies of calamity shatter the pearl's mantle.
Hippocampi forewarn of the seafoam's ambush.
Preparing for the inevitable euphotic zone's descent,
She is the Angler's flooded candela.

Tumultuous floods cascade over the ruined acropolis.
The aqueducts conceal larimar encrusted scriptures.
All cognition is forcibly devastated by vengeful rapids
Now she is regarded amongst the caprella.

Malformed Scylla hasty to pilfer decaying remains.
Charybdis reckless to crush with its numerous jaws.
Souls pillaged for their misfortune in splendor.
She is the Angler's flooded candela.

Shrouded solely in the fathomless, stygian depths.
Oxygen minimum commences its terminal quest.
She is the Angler's flooded candela.
Now she is regarded amongst the caprella.