Locks

underwater there exists a forest bed,

which has a pond,

and a muffled melody is heard from the depths of that pond

the moon moans, aghast and horrified,

for the mist takes over, the mist of algae,

as the moonshine gets blurry

before reaching the ocean base

while I hum a melody in that pond, underwater in the ground

as I walk with uncertainty through the androgynous dark

with air for leaves that rustle and ground that falls,

black as stone, dark like art,

I walk under the ocean bed, heavily,

through the androgynous dark

---

West of the Pacific lies darkness,

only if you choose to steer left from course will you find it and fall

where endures a depth incomparable to all

undersea, it is living death

when I go,

I make it to the trench from the abyss,

where stands a cliff alone

cold and hard, I dive further deep into the barren stark

Under the ocean bed, the forest thick, a heavy walk

Through the androgynous dark

Black as stone, dark like art