Immigrating
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.
