Ebon Deep
Water rolls alone into the craven pool
A raven holds upon the words of wonton ripples wandering
The sun belies its rays upon the languished fool
All dreams are stones that fall from heights detached from mountains rumbling
It’s my feet that clap the coolness of this stream
Giving root to tide and weight to ebon deep
Take a stroll within the trench of a gilded past
Nostalgia ties the boots of several million soldiers stamping
A young man dies, lies in depths of abolition
In wonderment and lies behold the act of all creation
It’s my feet that clap the coolness of this stream
Giving root to tide and weight to ebon deep
My body falls and wades within this stream
Giving all my weight and body to the deep
Taste the piquant sea
In the air of caves that house me
My sole forgotten lair
Recede into this gallery of mist and memory
The craving of belief
Relief
The craving of relief