Depth, the perception of which leads me deeper still;
into memories, thoughts, emotions...
...of devotions and love potions.
Notions of love-lore and wanting more;
feeling about myself as a bore.
Certainly reality cannot be so harsh,
yet through this boggy marsh I trudge.
The sludge of my decadence is ther precedence.
An open heart gets wounded...
...or broken...
...shattered...
tattered fragments of you and of those before. |
Submission Name: Deeper Still
