Standing knee deep in cold water, swiftly moving, somehow I knew I'd lost something.
Wading waist deep I saw a book there in the river, waiting for me to find it there.
I tried to read it, neck deep, treading water, but the tide, it pulled me out to sea.
Then, with water in my eyes, the words began to rise from their place.
They were beautiful and dread; I reached for them and fed on each phrase.
They were honey on my lips, but then a bitter twist in my side.
I knew they'd lay me in my grave; "Is there no one who can save me?" I cried.
Sinking, down deep through cold water and heavy silence, shadows stirring in the gloom.
What things that lay sleeping down deep in the darkness woke then, to find me in that tomb?
And when I lost all hope to look, someone took that heavy book -
From my hands; all its weight they set aside, after they had satisfied its demands.
I felt white and black reverse, and the lifting a curse from my heart.
Then like one receiving sight, I beheld a brilliant light in the dark.
