Gentle words, soothing and caring,
Filling the holes with stones.
They don't fit right, but they stop
the heartache, the sadness, the lonliness

Then there's the ever-present noose,
Looming around pale swan necks,
Threatening to bruise and purple and puss

The harder the struggle,
the more the pitch-black surrounds the light
Hopelessness prevails

Lured in by pebbles,
Beaten down by stones,
Miles to go
until the body is sore and hurt and lonlier than before
Boulders dragging you by the ankle,
Under deeper, ebony waters.
Where waiting creatures of the Deep
Lunge
Tear at your flesh and pride.
Love and trust,
Faith and Hope

But on the surface, there's only ripples,
Ringing outward,
Fading away