The Lake

Obsidian,
an eternity of molten black,
worlds of dunes,
constantly crashing and destroying,
softly,
As if only,
in a gentle embrace,
and it calls me,
ever on,
to plunge my eyes beneath its sanctity,
to view the merciless endurance,
of the swirling tides,
which I know to be welcoming,
such are the waters at rest,
mist forming its blanket,
as it awaits dawn.





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