Sitting here thinking
about a feeling that’s sinking
sinking deep, out of reach
its return, you cannot beseech.
To arrive at it, if at all,
you must dive into the darkest depths
past the frozen thoughts and dead sentiments
further beyond the night passions
the colour, from bright cyans
into the deep, dark marine abyss
holding your breath, anticipating what is to come
as you reach Neptune’s cave
barred with personal lore, away you gave.
Gasping, gulping for breath—
for those precious, dear feelings
to impede their passing
stop the cranial proceedings!
Alas, the ocean of the mind is ever vast
not one, not you nor above ones
can open many things past
experiences into memory passed
who, who are you
to have the keys to my thoughts of blue?
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