the space between the underworld –

and the place of the living

Swimming in the Lethe

Tethered to both boat and shore

My muscles ache to do my biding

Held back by the currents

of invisible chains

Ancient, abiding

I let my oars soar

as the wish of my wings

Aching for freedom, hidden in the gore

that is being but a temporary blip

in the river of souls

that claims the land and reneges the whole.